Secret Whispers
by DeathIsOnStrike
Summary: As she looks down upon their bodies, she feels no remorse, no guilt, nothing. Why? The CSI's will find out, but at the cost of their own? [Now Complete]
1. Artful Murder

Hi peeps, I kinda got attacked by this oversized Evil Plot Bunny of Doom while pondering what I should write for Unforgotten Sorrows. Yeah well I just started watching CSI and I'm frankly not one for memorization, so I'm bound to get people and the science stuff wrong so plz point out my mistakes when you see one. Thankz a lotz.

To angry readers as to why I haven't been updating I have two explanations:

1. My computer is as crappy as ever even though my cuz tried to fix it.

2. I'm pulling double shifts at work, cause it's summer and I need the money to buy a new laptop with no virus's in it and that tends to put me in a X.X postition.

BTW if anyone wants to be a beta reader for this story plz tell me...I am sooooo bad at LA or aka English cause surprise surprise english was not my first language although I was born in Canada. Much thankz.

Disclaimer: If I owned anything but me MOB then I'd be out making millions and not writing fanfiction on a virus loaded computer.

Warning: It might contain some slash in future chapters. (I'm not sure yet cause me EPoD decide that.) Rated to be on the safe side, lots of gore and blood to be sure.

Plz review and tell me what you think. (I like rambling so my AN's are long let me tell yaz)

* * *

Secret Whispers: Chapter One Artful Murder

"Victim is a 26 year old caucasian male, ID'd as Tim Micheals. Found dead and headless in his own apartment at 10pm." Gil Grissom informed his team for this murder.

"Who called it in?" Nick asked.

"The tenant underneath his apartment, apparently she noticed blood leaking through the ceiling."

"So there's gonna be a lot of blood?" Greg asked paling slightly.

Grissom looked at him over the top of the rim of his glasses, "I would guess so."

"Sorry, just asking." Greg mumbled.

"Well the case isn't gonna solve itself with us hanging around here." Nick said. "Let's go."

* * *

The hallway outside the victim's apartment was taped off with yellow crime scene tape, blood was making it's steady way through the crack under the door. "Urgh." Greg said as he and the rest of the team pulled on their gloves. "Hey where's the uniform that's suppose to be standing guard?" 

"Apparently he is emptying his stomach contents outside." Grissom answered before opening the door.

The sight that met them was not pretty, the victim was lying front first in a pool of his own blood. Gashes ranging from an inch to five inches sliced through his back which gave a very disturbing resemblance to a famous painting by Vincent Van Gogh called Starry Night.

Nick photographed the image and set down measuring the gashes while David the assistant coroner looked the DB over. "He was definitely alive while his head got cut off, that would explain the large amount of blood." He leaned over and took a liver temperature, "He's been dead no more then four hours. Has anyone found the head yet?"

"Nope." Greg answered while wandering into the small kitchen, "The killer could be one of those people that are infatuated with head trophies. No wait never mind found it and this is such a sick sight."

Grissom hurried over and stopped as he spotted the head frozen in the freezer that Greg had opened. He wisely turned tail to search the bedroom for any incriminating evidence, he dug into the nightstand's drawer and came up with a handful of syringes, "David?"

"Yeah?"

"Is the guy on steroids?"

"Just a minute...I can see fine puncture wounds on the left buttocks...however seeing as he hasn't grown or for this matter shrunk in size, I'd say he hasn't been using it for long."

"Thanks, David." Grissom said while photographing the syringes.

"Yuck...his eye's been gouged out." said Greg from the kitchen.

Grissom bagged the syringes and went back into the kitchen and saw the bloody gouge on the right side where the eye use to be, he pointed to the gashes on the face. "Any theories."

"Murderer must be an art expert." Greg replied with his head stuck in the freezer, "The head looks like one of Picasso's self portraits."

"I never knew you yourself was an art expert." Grissom said.

"Nah, took an art examining class way back when. It mostly talked about the painter's style and blah blah blah blah blah." Greg said and pulled a knife out of the back of the freezer. "Killer's choice of weapon?"

"Possible, bag it."

"This guy sure is a bleeder, high velocity blood splatter. The killer knew what they were doing, work was done quickly...Hey Grissom." Nick said.

"Yeah?"

"I thought you said this guy was 26."

"That's what the officer said when he called it in." Grissom said before heading back to the DB.

"This student ID says differently...says he is a local freshman at the U of LV. Judging by the year he is only 19 going on 20." Nick said.

Grissom bent down and picked up the vic's wallet before picking the student ID and the ID that he assumed was the fake one. "The fake one's edges are bleeding, the words blurred, no hologram, and...that's the student ID photo isn't it? This is a piece of crap." Grissom declared.

"Wow, thought I'd never see the day that Gruesom Grissom would ever use such a simple word." Greg said with the head under his arm which he gave to David to process.

"Well...I doubt the body will tell us anymore till we get it back to the morgue...so I'll be on my way." said David bagging the body with the help of Nick.

"Wow this guy is such a pig." Greg said as he spotted a rotting left over fish under the bookshelf.

"That's how it is at the university isn't it?" Grissom asked, "Too tired to wash dishes, too busy to do anything but study study study if you're serious with your future."

"Yeah well that is just your opinion." Greg murmured before moving to search through the waste paper basket.

Grissom glared at him before opening a closet, dirty clothes tumbled out along with broken umbrellas and cracked CD cases. He bent down and searched through the stuff, before shoving it back in the closet, "Have you found anything incriminating?"

"Nope the killer is as clean as a whistle, maybe he or she left some prints on the knife but that's it." Greg said.

"Let's head back to the lab and process it." Grissom said, slowly getting up.

"Aye aye, boss." Greg said while stuffing some evidence into his kit.

Nick looked up from the laptop, "Should we take this too?"

"Might as well." said Grissom, "Some people have a journal or something on their computers."

"Yeah some." said Greg opening the door and walking out.

* * *

"So what've we got?" Greg asked the middle aged woman with reddish brown hair, the fingerprint expert. (I don't know what her name is...So I'll call her Shirley. If you know what her name is then plz tell me.) 

"Nothing, the killer definitely used gloves." Shirley said while showing the way too consistent texture on the handle of the knife.

"How about the type of knife?"

"You'll have to ask that new girl, Andrea. I heard she's a weapons expert. The one that replaced your replacement." Shirley said.

"Okay, thanks." Greg said heading towards the DNA lab. "Hey, Andrea." Greg said as a pretty woman of 26 looked up, she had loose wavy black hair that fell to her mid back, soulful dark brown eyes, and a full red mouth.

"Yeah?" she said turning towards Greg.

"Can you tell me anything about this knife, besides there's a lot of blood on it?"

Andrea snorted and said, "Classic kitchen knife, almost everybody have them in their houses unless they go for the expensive silver type."

"So anybody could own one?" Greg asked.

"That's right, could even be owned by your vic." Andrea said before her pager went off, "Whoops, gotta fly." she apologized before riffling through a bunch of papers and heading out the door.

Greg took a peek at the stuff that was being processed for his team's crime scene and did some lab work himself. Several hours later, he came up with nothing that would link anybody to the crime scene. He scowled heftily before reaching for a computer. Typing in the student ID number on the U of LV's list he came up with Tim Michaels, failing all subjects except in football, where he is or was a quarter back. "Somebody on the football team is bound to be popular, which means a lotta friends and a lotta suspects." Greg muttered under his breath, "Great I always hated interrogations."

* * *

"So..." Nick drawled as he stepped out of the tahoe, "Football team first?" 

"Yeah." Greg said watching the guys in the field playing what looked like extrememe musical chairs.

Nick and Greg entered the field and called the coach over, "We're with the crime lab. We would like to ask your team about the death of Tim Micheals."

The coach looked shocked, "Tim's dead?"

"It would seem so." Greg said, he had a great disliking towards football players. Courteousy to the treatment they gave him back in high school.

The first guy who was a defensive player, was the first to be interrogated, "You know Tim well, Joe?" Nick asked.

"We were best friends." he said shortly while eyeing anything but the CSI's faces.

"Why, Joe, does it seem you are hiding something from us?" Nick asked.

"Well...I...we..." Joe stuttered but didn't continue.

"Well we what?" Greg asked.

Joe looked down and didn't answer, Greg tried a different tactic he reached into his kit and pulled out the fake ID, "What can you tell me about this?"

Joe glanced at it frightened, but didn't answer. Greg placed both hands on his hips and his face grew from slightly annoyed to totally pissed off. Not very pleasant at all as everyone could tell, even Nick leaned a little bit away when Greg pulled that face, "You do realize by with holding something that could be important, you're letting us believe that maybe you are the murderer or that the murderer of your so called best friend is getting away." But Joe still refused to speak, "We can do this here and now or in an interrogation room back at the police department."

Joe looked sideways, but kept his mouth shut, "Looks like you're gonna miss out on practise." Greg said while leading him away.

* * *

Grissom, Nick, and Greg all watched Joe through the two way mirror. "He definitely has something to hide." Grissom remarked as Joe jumped at the slightest tap on the mirror. 

"Who's gonna interrogate him?" Greg asked.

They both turned on him, "What? No-no you are not seriously considering me to..." Greg stuttered.

"Well Greggo, time for your very first official interrogation." said Nick smiling, "I'll be sitting on it, so you won't make a fool of yourself."

Greg faked a grin, "Thanks Nick. That's...that's a real confidence booster."

Nick smiled as he and Greg headed for the interrogation room, Joe jumped as they entered. Nick sat down on one chair while Greg stood, "So..." Greg drawled watching as Joe sweated. "Have you finally decided to tell us something?"

"I'm not telling you anything." Joe said angrily.

"Come on. We already know that you too have a fake ID, so tell us...who gave them to you?" Greg said as he pulled out both the fake ID's and slapped them on the table before Joe.

"I don't know." Joe said not meeting Greg's eyes.

"Quite telling lies and maybe I'll believe you. Just give me a name and you'll be off the hook...for now." Greg said.

Joe considered this proposition and finally relented, "Ryan." he said shortly.

"Does this Ryan have a last name?" Greg asked.

"Anderson. Ryan Anderson."

* * *

Well did you like it? Plz review and beta reader is an open job for any of yaz as long as you don't expect to get paid. 


	2. Partial Answers

A/N: Gasp I'm updating so soon! Anyways I'm feeling very miserable cause it's like cold and rainy out and it's supose to be summer...geeze.

Warnings: Really bad language skills ahead of ya. I still need a beta reader, I could ask my friend emmotionaless but her skills are as bad as mine. (Pssht: You won't find her stories here, but you'll find them on quizilla.)

Disclaimer: Donownathingceptwhateverisorginal. There I said it, I'm so proud of myself.

Plz review, btw I know nothing of how things actually go down...lack of experience you might call it so many things are kinda urgh...that ain't suppose to be there.

* * *

Secret Whispers: Chapter Two Partial Answers

"Hey Andrea can you run a search on a Ryan Anderson." Greg asked as he walked into the lab.

"You're cutting into my break, ya know." said Andrea slightly pissed.

"How about a cup of my wonderful coffee to cheer you up." Greg enticed.

"We got a deal, but I want it before I do this search."

"Then I'll be right back...you don't happen to have a bottle of water lieing around do you?"

"Nope, sorry."

"Damn." Greg said as he headed out the door.

Coffee was almost ready and Greg was getting more and more paranoid, as the smell of Hawaiian Blue drifted through the break room. As soon as the coffee was done he poured it into two cups and sneaked out as Sara walked in, breathing the scent of Greg's coffee. "Greg, buddy ole pal." Nick said as he came in after Sara, they were both staring hungrily at the cups of coffee.

Greg took his cue and ran for the lab, careful not to splash coffee all over the place. He slammed the door closed and handed Andrea a cup as he peeked through the glass to see if any other people were gonna try and steal his coffee. "I've risked my life and soul for you by making you this coffee, now get to work." Greg said.

Andrea breathed in the scent of heavenly coffee and sighed happily as she tapped away on her computer. Done she leaned back as the computer processed the name and waited for it to spit out some information. Several minutes later the computer beeped and Ryan Anderson's files came up, "Wow." Andrea remarked.

"What?" asked Greg as he leaned over to take a look at the computer screen.

"His record seems like it's been wiped clean. There's nothing much on him, except he is a senior at the university. No criminal records, previous schools, parantage, nothing." Andrea said amazed.

"Now that's weird. Do you think that he has another name you can search? I hear he is quite the con artist." Greg asked.

"Probably, but that'll probably take days, months, years and we don't exactly have the CIA mainframe here." Andrea said.

"Yeah, well next best thing is to interrogate him." Greg said.

"I'll try one more thing. The easy search for any other names." Andrea said as she took the file picture and scanned it through the search. "Nope, but I have a feeling you're right about the name thing. Good luck." Andrea said as Greg took his leave.

"Thanks, I'll need it."

* * *

"So you're telling me you found diddly squat on this Anderson kid." Nick asked.

"Yeah, except really recent files. He's a senior at the university, driver's license, home address, nothing to make the unobservant suspicious. But he seemed to just have appeared out of no where these last few years, the farthest the records reach are when he first started university and that's it. No parantage known, nothing about his home town, nothing else but the basics." Greg said.

"That's tough." Nick said.

"Yeah."

"Well Greggo my man. Another interrogation coming your way."

"Why do I have the impression you are being paid to make me your servant?" Greg asked.

Nick whistled innocently, "You need the experience."

"So says the lazy texan." Greg muttered, "You driving or should I?"

"No way. I'm driving, if you drive we'd be lost in a matter of minutes." Nick said grabbing the keys to his tahoe.

"Aw shucks and here I thought I could get away form work for a few hours." Greg said as he followed Nick out.

"You keep dreaming." said Grissom behind them.

Greg clutched his heart, "You trying to give me a heart attack, Gris?"

"You're too young and healthy to have a heart attack."

"So says you, heart attacks can happen to anyone at anytime."

Grissom rolled his eyes before telling them that the Doc had their autopsey reports for Tim Micheals and to meet him in the autopsey room in five minutes. After Grissom went, Greg stretched and did a silent yes, "Interrogation will have to wait."

Nick rolled his eyes as they made their way to the autopsey room.

* * *

Dr. Al Robbins, David, and Grissom were already waiting for them in the autopsey room. "What's up Doc?" Greg asked mocking Bugs Bunny.

Doc just smiled and uncovered the DB which had it's head attached back on, "This guy had some chemicals in his digestive system, which could be some kind of knock out drug and of course alcohol. I'm still waiting for the tox report to come back.

"These cuts." Doc gestured to the slashes, "Were made before he had his head cut off. That's all I can tell you at this point in time, except that he was decapitated by something other then a knife. This cut is too clean to be from a knife even if it was done in one stroke which is highly unlikely.

"One more thing that should be interesting, he had his nose broken and ribs bruised fairly recently."

"Looks like it's back to the crime scene." Greg said making a swishing movement. "I'm fairly sure there were no beer bottles there. Or he could've been drinking somewhere else."

"Nah, let's go interview Anderson first...he could be the perp who did it." Nick said.

"Ah...but what's the motive?" Greg asked.

"Well, let's see." Nick said sarcastically, "Anderson is a con artist not yet detected by the feds, if the vic happens to be blackmailing him then he probably wouldn't want that would he?"

"Okay okay I guess you're right, but is this guy some art expert or something?" Greg asked.

"We'll just have to see." said Nick as they walked out the room.

* * *

"Principal Larkinson?" Nick asked as they opened the door to the principal's office.

"How may I help you?" said the principal all smiles. The man was in his late 50's, balding, chubby, and carried an almost distinct likeness to Santa Claus.

"We are with the crime lab, we would like to speak to Ryan Anderson."

Larkinson's face fell, "Ah yes, Anderson. I'm sorry to say that he has been suspended from the university for two weeks, you'll probably have more luck at his house."

"Can I ask you why?" Nick asked.

Larkinson sat down and gestured for the two CSI's to do so too, "He had a fight with one of the football players. He sent the boy home with a broken nose and bruised ribs."

"Who is this football player?" Nick asked already knowing who it probably was.

Larkinson licked his lips, "I believe he was found dead just a couple of days ago. Tim Michaels."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Larkinson." Nick said as he and Greg shook the old man's hand.

* * *

"That's interesting." Greg said. "From the file picture I saw, he's like a stick. How can some 98 pound something beat up a macho football player?"

"Martial arts?" Nick asked as they headed out.

"Excuse me."

The two CSI's turned around to find themselves staring open mouthed at a pretty blonde in a cheerleading outfit. "Can I help you?" Greg asked.

"You are talking about Ryan, no?" she said with a slight russian accent.

"Yes, we are from the crime lab. Greg Sanders and Nick Stokes." Greg said as they all shook hands.

"Lilly Vermount." she said.

"You have some information on Ryan Anderson?" Greg asked.

"He is one of my friends." Lilly said, "If he is in trouble I should know."

"I'm afraid to say that he is one of the prime suspects in a murder investigation."

"The death of Tim Michaels, no? Ryan got in a fight with him, but he would never kill him."

"Do you know why they got in a fight, Lilly?" Nick asked.

"Who wouldn't?" Lilly asked, "He picks on people all the time. Ryan was just one of his random picks of the day. I believe he took a cheap shot at Ryan's parents."

Greg cocked his head, "Do you know who Ryan's parents are?"

"No, but I believe they are either dead or in jail."

"Lilly, can you tell me what Tim said."

Lilly pondered for a moment, "He said Ryan's parents were druggies and were hopeless causes just like Ryan."

"Ryan took the bait and hit him?" Greg asked.

"Ryan was having a very bad day, I always make fun of him when he wakes up on the wrong side of bed. If I didn't know better I would say that he was a woman having her monthlies."

"Lilly have you been or are in a relationship with Ryan?" Greg asked.

"No, we are just friends. By the way, you won't find Ryan at his apartment." Lilly said.

"You know where he is?" Greg asked.

Lilly smiled and said, "Follow me."

* * *

She led them to the parking lot and walked right up to a black SUV with darkened windows and knocked out a tune on the driver window. A muffled tenor voice came out, "Is that you, Lilly?"

"Yes, now open up."

They heard the door unlock and Lilly opened it to reveal a pale young man, with long hair that defied gravity, he blinked a couple of times before moving over to the passenger's side. Lilly got in and crawled over the seat to the back and unlocked the back door and let the two CSI's in. "Friend's of yours?" Ryan asked scrutinizing the two CSI's.

"You could say that." Lilly said as she grabbed the bag of chips out of the young man's hands.

"Ryan Anderson, we would like to ask you a few questions." Nick said.

"Ah yes, the ritual that all cops have. Question, search, and arrest." Ryan sighed.

"Then you have something to hide?" Greg asked.

"Nope, but you never know. Something as innocent as a fluffy pink bunny can be twisted into evidence against the suspect." Ryan said examining the parking lot.

"Then you won't mind if we search the car and your apartment." Greg said.

"Nope, but don't get your fingerprint powder all over the place. I don't wanna be cleaning up for months on end." Ryan said as he opened the door and tumbled out.

Lilly got out also and stretched, "Well I better be off, cheerleading practise, see you later Ryan."

"Ya later." Ryan stretched stiffly and leaned against the SUV.

* * *

An hour later Nick and Greg admitted defeat and sat in the SUV, "Can I ask you something?" Greg asked.

"You already did." Ryan answered before turning his body ever so slightly towards Greg.

"Why are you at the university even though you have been suspended?"

"An interesting question with a number of answers." he turned back to his original position making it harder for the CSI's to read him, "Reason number one, I'm meeting somebody. Number two, get my work for the next two weeks or so. Three, escaping my demented landlord. And four, spying on the love birds over there." Ryan gestured to the end of the parking lot where surprise surprise Lilly was macking out on some guy.

"Who's this person you are meeting?" Greg asked.

"I believe you have already met her."

"Who? Lilly?"

Ryan gave the slightest of nods, "Why didn't you pick up your school work when you were first suspended?" Nick asked.

"One I sprained my wrist." Ryan rolled up his right sleeve to show a cast like thing on it, "And two I'm quite forgetful."

"Then what about your landlord?" Nick asked curious.

"My rent is due today and I happen to not have all of it." Ryan glanced at his watch, "Well are you gonna search my apartment or what cause I'm leaving for work in a few. Here's the key to it, avoid the landlord at all costs." Ryan said as he climbed in and CSI's got out.

* * *

Plz review, hopefully next one will be out soon unless I'm caught up in a whirlpool of other bunnies that have nothing to do with this story. (stares wide eyed at one of her own stories) Haven't updated it for like ever, should really do that but oh well.


	3. Unprofitable

Another crappie chapter...heck I think this story is going downhill fast. Before I forget...Wishing Alberta (it's a province located in western Cananda. East of BC, west of Saskatchewan, south of the North West Territories, and north of USA.) a happy centennial(100th bday). It was like Sept 1st so yeah. Before you ask, yes I do live in Alberta.

And hopefully a happy labor day before everybody goes back to school. Gah! I'm starting 9th grade aka high school and I'm so gonna be lost the first week or so :(

Yeah I'm not sure how often I can update, this story kinda's number one priority...yes I want to get rid of it fast. But I'll try to update at least once a week or a month. Anyways enjoy and don't forget to review. I need to get better at writting and flaming is one way you can go. BTW I am very bad at english so plz forgive the mistakes in the literature.

* * *

Secret Whispers: Chapter Three Unprofitable

Greg knocked on the Super's door, in the apartment building where their suspect lived. It was some moments before it was opened, Greg and Nick were met by a powerful stench of rather stale air. "Yeah, what can I do you for?"

The super was a fat and overweight man, rolls of fat covered his entire body which was unkempt and unwashed for what seemed like days. A definite weird smell came off of him, Greg did his best to plaster a smile onto his face, "We're from the crime lab. We would like to take a look at one of your tenant's room. Ryan Anderson."

"That bastard!" the guy shouted.

"Do you have a problem with him, Mr. um...I'm sorry I didn't get your name."

"You can call me Art. And yeah I do have a problem with him. Never pays the rent on time."

"Well that's to be expected considering he has intuition to pay."

"There's no excuse for such tardiness, watch he won't pay up till tomorrow."

"And that's a problem, why?" Greg asked clearly confused.

The super opened his fat mouth to speak but was interrupted by Nick, "Art, the tenant's room if you please."

"Yeah yeah whatever. You kids don't have no respect these days." the fat man muttered.

He grabbed a ring full of keys and walked slowly up two sets of stairs, Nick and Greg followed not so very close behind him. They finally reached a door marked 212, the super opened it and said, "Don't use too much electricity in there." and he left.

"Tell me why we had to face the freaky super instead of just coming up and opening the door our selves." Greg said digging out the key from his pocket.

"So we can see what kind of an environment he lives in." said Nick pulling on some gloves and looking through unopened bills.

"Then we should find his parents, don't you think?" Greg asked and stared at the small apartment before him.

It was not exactly messy in the common sense, there were no clothes or congealed food lieing around. But it was kinda messy too to the organized mind, pictures, obviously hand drawn were plastered on the walls and windows all over the place. Greg went over to pluck one off from the walls and stared at it, it was obviously done in a hurry and obviously something plucked from the mind or mythology. Greg found himself staring into the gleaming eyes of a cerberus, which looked rather hungry. Getting premenitions, he quickly put it back in place.

The rest of the drawings were done in the same hurried sense but each were different from the last, most of the pictures didn't seem to have connections to others but mostly stayed in the genre of fantasy. "Well we know something about him, he draws good and he's into fantasy. More preciously into greek mythology." Greg said.

"We should give those to a pshychiatrist or something."

"Aw, come on there must be hundreds here."

"I'll help you then." Nick came over and stared at the drawings, "On second thought maybe we should just take a few."

"I'm with you." Greg said reaching out to take a drawing of a landscape.

Shuffeling through another bunch he came to a drawing that looked very familiar, "Hey, Nick."

"Yeah?"

"This look familiar to you?" said Greg holding up a quick sketch of Starry Night.

"That was cut into the vic's back. You think he had something to do with it?"

"Maybe." Greg said bagging it.

"All kitchen knives are here." Nick remarked from the small kitchen.

"Yeah, well it was a standard kitchen knife. It could've come from anybody's house."

Greg walked into the bedroom and observed the unmade bed, he spotted something scattered among the window sills. He picked it up, it was a blank piece of stiff plastic the exact shape and size of an ID card. He bagged them and studied the window, it was open just a smidgeon he lifted it and peered out. Greg felt a wave of nausea hit him as he spotted the tiny alley and all the rotten garbage lying around, shaking his head he looked around. There was nothing abnormal at all about the ladder leading towards the ground, he shrugged and closed the window so as to not let pidgeon's in.

Nick looked around the kitchen one more time and finally in the fridge, nothing out of the ordinary there. He heard a low whining growl, he straightened up and turned. There standing before him was a foot long menance aka a very very short dog. Nick gave the dog his patent smirk and bent down, "Nice puppy, come here."

The dog growled once more and launched itself into the air and landed on a very surprised Nick. Greg heard the yell from the kitchen and hurried in there and found himself staring as a short puppy took on a grown man. He would've laughed but feeling duty bound he pulled the dog off of Nick, "Well hey there little fellow. What's your name?"

Greg reached for the collar, but was nipped sharply. "You know if you don't settle down I'm going to throw you out of the window. I'll bet you won't like that."

The dog settled somewhat, but enough that Greg had the chance of catching the tags and reading the name of the dog. But that's as far as he got, because the dog now known as Trina bit him. "Ow, hey." said Greg before letting go of the dog.

"I thought this was a pet free apartment building." remarked Nick brushing himself off.

"Dunno, sometimes people sneak the weirdest things in here." Greg said examining his bitten finger.

"You know why didn't the dog attack us right away?" Nick asked.

"You call that an attack? I call that assault." Greg said, "And I don't know, she probably was following us around unnoticed until you disturbed the sacred sanctum of food."

"You're mind is always on food, you know that?"

Greg blinked a couple of times, "Well not all the time, I do dream of hot babes you know."

"You're sick." Nick said.

"You could say that." Greg said.

Hours passed and they had nothing much except the drawing and the blank ID's. Nick took off his gloves and sat down on the couch in the main room and blew out a breath of air. Greg sat beside him as Trina cocked her head and growled. "You think we have enough to bring him in?"

"If not for murder, maybe for for making fake ID's."

"Yeah...he would probably get off..." Greg stopped as the doorknob turned.

In came the guy they had just been talking about, Ryan looked slightly dishevelled, he wore a look of puzzlement. "You two are still here?"

Nick looked around, "Yeah, uh...we'll be leaving now."

They both marched out without another word.


	4. Truth and Lies

Hi, gotta rush this cause yeah my computer time is like cut now. Anyways school, hectic, got lost a couple of times, and yeah.

Hopefully, cross your fingers, I can get the next one out soon. I don't know when though but hopefully soon.

As always don't own anything if I did I'd be rich. Plz review...major major.

By the way I'm too tired right now to translate any of the foreign languages so go tofreetranslations (DOT) com it's such a big homework helper.BTW Andrea's speaking Italian and Greg is of course speaking Norwegian.

Thankz of the reviews:

**UnspokenLoves: **Chapter One is not missing anything actually. (Embarassed) My mind that day couldn't stay on one subject for long so sorry. Thankz hopefully I will get to that...but high school is like time consuming even though I haven't even been back for some time.

**Simply Crisis: **Thankz and you'll be very very very surprised who the killer is.

* * *

Secret Whispers: Chapter Four Truth and Lies

"Hey kid."

Ryan scratched his head and stared sleepily at the super, or as he liked to call him fat arsed bastard. "Yeah?"

"You got the rent?"

Jeeze this guy could only think of money and lazing about watching his precious 60 inch plasma screen TV. The fat bastard rolled a cigarette into his fat lips and lit it up, "Yeah. Here." Ryan handed over more then half of his paycheck to the guy.

"Next time, don't be so tardy."

"Yeah whatever." Ryan said walking out the chipped wooden door.

Trina, Ryan's border collie puppy, poked her head out of the blanket she was wrapped in. "Hey, you get back in there. Of course I understand if you'd rather stay in some pound."

Trina hid her eyes with her paws and snuggled back into the blanket, Ryan opened the door to his car and placed Trina in the back. He climbed into the driver's seat, just as his cell phone rang, "Hello?"

"Mr. Anderson?"

"Yes?"

"We would like to ask you some questions."

Figuring it was the police he nodded, then remembering he was on a phone and the other person couldn't see him he answered, "Yeah...uh where?"

The guy on the other line gave him the address and hung up. Ryan studied the address for a few minutes, before figuring out it was the address of the crime lab. He drove there as Trina leaned her small and fluffy black and white furred head out the window. "Hey, don't complain to me when your head gets taken off. You better not haunt me either, alright?"

She wrinkled her nose and paid no heed. Rolling his eyes, Ryan parked the car and stared up at the building. "You gonna suffocate or are you coming in?"

Trina stuck her tail up in the air and walked proudly towards the entrance, Ryan locked the door and walked up to the red haired receptionist. "May I help you?"

"Uh...yeah. Um...I got a call from someone saying that they needed to ask me a few questions."

She clicked away at her computer for a few minutes, "Are you Mr. Ryan Anderson?"

"Yeah."

"Here you go." she handed him a visitor's badge and told him to go down the hallway until he reached an office marked Gil Grissom.

Ryan did as he was told, Trina got a lot of preculiar stares as she marched down the hallway. Reaching the designated door, Ryan knocked. Hearing a "Come in." He did, there were three people sitting there, two of which he already knew, Nick Stokes and Greg Sanders. However the old guy he didn't, he had a blue eyed stare, with greying hair cropped short, and a non althletic body. However he did look like he could strangle Ryan if he really wanted to.

"Mr. Anderson take a seat." the old man said pointing to a seat, okay he wasn't old maybe in his late forties, But that's pretty old to Ryan.

Trina took her oppurtunity, to make a great show of jumping onto the desk between the CSI people and settling in. "You brought the dog?" Nick asked.

Ryan shrugged, "Yeah."

The old man glared at the other two CSI's before placing an ID card in a plastic baggie before him, "What can you tell me about this?"

Ryan straightened up and reached for it. He picked it up and noticed it belonged to the football player that had pissed him off a couple of days ago and was dead. Also that it was a piece of crap, "Besides that it belonged to that guy which is dead and that this is total piece of shit. Nothing much."

"Hey, language." Nick said from the shadows.

"Sorry."

"So you know this is fake." the old guy said.

"If anybody believed either wise, I'd tell them to get their eyes checked." Ryan said.

"Can you tell me exactly what's wrong with it?"

"Sure. The edges are bleeding, the words are smudged, no hologram, and this is not a regular ID photo."

"Anything else?"

"Well if I had a fancy lab and a couple of hours, I could tell you something else. But right now, no."

"Mr. Anderson, since you know so much about fake ID's tell me how these got into your room." the guy put another larger baggie filled with blank ID's onto the table.

Ryan shrugged, "You tell me, cause that sure ain't mine."

"Maybe we can refresh your mind after a few hours in a holding cell." Nick said.

"Refresh it all you want. Cause I can't tell you because they arn't mine."

"Mr. Anderson a local university student tells me you made these..." Grissom (I'm tired of saying old guy...hey it is Ryan's POV after all.) pulled another baggie out, "For him and a couple of friends."

"Please you're insulting my ability to make genuine ID's, these are a piece of crap. I wouldn't want to spend a fortune on a crappy fake ID, if you know what I mean."

"So you admit you can make fake ID's."

Ryan shrugged, "Yeah."

"But you're sure you didn't make these?"

"I never got paid and unless I was under the influence of some sort of substance. I can garuantee you that I never made these ID's."

Grissom nodded, "Uhuh, we'll take a short break now."

Ryan let out a sigh and shrugged. Grissom, Nick, and Greg filed out, "He says he didn't make them, does anyone believe that?" Greg asked.

Grissom and Nick shrugged, "The evidence doesn't lie, Greg." Nick said quoting Grissom.

"But have we tested these ID's for anything? All we have is that they were in his room, that's not enough."

Greg and Nick looked down at their shoes in shame, "My bad. I'll ask Andrea to test them for epithelias or anything." Greg said and took the baggie of cards to the DNA lab.

"I guess we gotta let him go." Nick said.

"For now." Grissom said staring through the doorway at Ryan talking to his dog.

"Hey Andrea." Greg said stalking into the lab.

"Che ha torto adesso, Greg?" Andrea said not looking up from the microscope.

"Bless you."

"It's italian for what's wrong now, Greg? So bother telling me."

"Nothing is wrong Andrea and why don't you just speak Norwegian like the rest of the sane world?"

"E che ciò è? Come 1 del mondo di laboratorio di crimine?" Andrea looked up, "Adesso che penso di esso. Neanche."

"You're really irratating, you know that?" Greg glared at her.

"Ehi, se prendo che voglio poi tutto il pozzo che finisce bene, la destra? Inoltre amo le persone di bugging." Andrea said.

"To leker på dette spillet." Greg smirked.

"La fiera abbastanza."

"Hey, hey, hey. If you two want to have a weird convo that doesn't envolve english then do it outside of the english speaking crime lab, please." Nick said from the door way.

"Dette er ikke over." Greg said.

"Certo non è." Andrea said pointing a gloved finger at him.

"Please people, I'm feeling left out."

"Aw, does poor little Nicky need a hug?" Andrea said in her baby voice.

"Andrea, just tell us what you found."

"Well...the epithelias if from a male donor." Nick urged her on as she took a dramatic sigh, "But it isn't your suspect number one's."

"But...how could that be? They were in his room." Greg said staring from one face to another.

"One...they weren't his. Two...someone's trying to frame him. You know it's not hard to climb a ladder and place incriminating evidence into someone's house."

"Yeah yeah whatever, so who's is it." Nick asked trying to get them back on track.

"I'll give you three guesses." Andrea said smugly.

"Please we don't have time for this."

"Alright, alright. You guys are no fun. Anyways I went through CODIS and I found out that they...belonged...to..." Andrea gave inhaled dramatically, "To Joe."

"Joe? Who's Joe? Oh wait memory's coming back, I remember now that football player. Right?" Greg asked.

"Wow Greg you got something right after all."

Greg scowled, "Back to the drawing board I guess."


	5. Arguments

I declare injustice...a test not 4 classes since we started school and in social too. Groan...this is gonna be a long day of studying, anyway enough of my problems I took like 2 hours off to type this so be happy. Also there isn't much cause I like jammed or sprained my fourth finger in football and now it's going all blackish and purpley and blueish...most have burst a lot of blood vessels. Well at least I didn't break my wrist like this other person in my class, FOOTBALL IS DANGEROUS!

Usual don't own a thing...blahblahblah...and plz reveiw.

Thankz to the reviewers:

**Simply Crisis: **Yep, Joe the football player. You get to learn more about him in this chappie. Spoiled brat...anyways glad you like it. Thankz.

**Phoenix aka from the Koromiel and Phoenix team** (they gots a great story mates I advise you to check it out)Ah thankyou...unfortunately I only like chapter one too, must be my inexperience with this sorta stuff. Meh, anyways luv yer story.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Five Arguments

Nick and Greg watched Joe sweat behind the glass, he had 3 attornies with him, you can bet he was conferring feverishly with them. Greg's fingers itched, he wanted to turn on the audio, but the accused had his or her right to privacy. "He definitely has something to hide. Where's Grissom when you need him? I wonder if he'll be able to lip read what the guy's saying."

"Well if Grissom were here, I'd think he'd have to obey the rules."

Greg sighed, "I should learn to lip read. It'll be my new hobby."

"Good luck with that." Nick snorted.

"Yeah thanks for the encouragement Nick. I know gultier people who only had one attorney...don't you think this is just perverting the idea of a counsel? Must be pretty expensive too." Greg frowned.

"Yeah it is, but probably not for him. I dug up stuff on our Joe here, turns out he's the son of Judge Warner. The attornies are sure to try to please the judge, so they can win more cases and make more money."

"Oh jeeze." Greg rubbed his brow, "We're so gonna be crushed next time we go to court."

"Yeah, I know. But this is all we got...oh they're finished their hour long discussion." said Nick as one of the attornies signalled for them to enter.

Greg and Nick entered and sat down, Nick turned on the recorder and fed it the necessary information. "So Mr Joseph Warner, you lied in an important investigation involving the death of your best friend Timothy Michaels. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"My client." said the attorney who had signalled them in, "Wants to revise his first statement."

"So why did he lie in the first place?" Nick asked.

"My client was in shock from the lose of his best friend. Surely he wouldn't be able to think clearly."

Then it hit Greg, the attorney was Judge Warner's sister and aunt of Joe. Damn it. Attorney Warner was married to another attorney who was also present in the room, but had kept her maiden name for public purposes. She had short red hair, which tempted Greg very much to call her Moe and sharp red nails, along with a red three piece suit, not exactly the usual favourite grey/black of the attornies.

Nick plowed on, "He didn't seem so when we asked for his statement the first time. He pointed a finger at a perfectly innocent young man, who had a fight with Mr. Michaels prior to Mr. Michaels untimely murder."

Joe who was trying to keep perfectly neutral shot up, "He's not innocent one bit." he snapped.

"Mr. Warner why do you think Mr. Anderson is not innocent? Is it a personal vendetta?"

Attorney Warner grabbed Joe's wrist and forced him to sit down, "My client..."

"Whatever auntie, I want to tell them what a stupid bastard that son of a bitch is."

Joe's third lawyer whispered into Joe's ear, "I want to tell them." he practically shouted.

Greg rolled his eyes. Ahh the pleasure of being rich, you almost always get what you want. "Joseph Warner." DA Warner said. (That is right, right? Defence Attorney Warner. Right?) "I advise you to keep your mouth shut."

Greg leaned over to Nick, "Temper temper." he whispered.

Nick's eyebrows rose a couple of centimetres, "Yeah."

"No." said Joe his face turning beat red, "I won't."

"Please people if you're gonna have a fight please do it in your spare time. Right now we have a police interrogation to think about."

"I..." began Joe but was cut off by Warner.

"One moment please, Mr. Stokes. My client needs to talk to his counsel. Privately."

Nick nodded and shut off the recorder before he and Greg walked out the room. "I finally decided I hate lawyers."

"No, you don't." Greg said, "You only hate them cause they always interfere with interrogations. It's not fair and it's so very irratating, especially when they say stuff like, My client wishes to keep silent by using his rights, or something like that."

"Yeah I know." Nick mumbled into his hands as he rubbed his temples.

"So." came the clipped tones of the one and only Detective Jim Brass. "How's it going?"

"Not good. This is like the second time we've been sent out so Joe could confer with his precious and overpowering auntie DA Warner."

"Ouch, her batting average is very high." Brass said observing the argument going on inside the interrogation room.

"Tell me about it and he's perverting the idea of counsel."

"That I can see. DA Lawrence and DA Metta...whoo...that's really going overboard. Three top lawyers in Navada."

"And the States." Greg added.

"Not to mention his father is Judge Warner and his mother is a prosecutor." Nick said.

"Just like your dear family back in...Texas." Greg said Texas with a overly unnecessary texan accent.

"Hey." Nick said.

"You know, if this keeps happening this interrogation is gonna take all day." Brass said as his cell phone rang. He excused himself and walked down the hall talking to the person on the other line.

"How's it going?" Catherine Willows asked as she walked up.

"Don't you have another case?" Nick asked.

"Got that damn mother fucker in jail." Cath said flipping her shoulder length blonde hair back from her face.

'Touchy case.' Greg mouthed behind Cath's back to Nick.

"Good for you. So decided to bump into our investigation?"

"Maybe...it's a quiet night. I don't want to hang out with Sara and Warrick who are bickering over a chessboard or Gil. He's got another tarantula..." Cath shivered.

"That is sure gonna keep him occupied for the next year." Greg said. He glanced at his watch, "Man they have the longest arguments ever."

"Oh?" Cath inquired.

"Yeah, second time they sent us out so they can keep a lid on Joe." Nick said.

"Joe? As in Judge Warner's son?"

"Yep, prepare for war, mates." Greg sighed dramatically, "We need chairs out here, my legs are getting sore from standing."

"You think they are ever gonna let us in?" Nick asked.

"By this rate we'll be old when they do." Cath said eyeing the heated argument with interest.

One of the lawyers, DA Lawrence came out of the interrogation room, "Our client has nothing to say and wishes to go home."

"Can that really happen during an official police interrogation?" Greg whispered to Cath.

She shrugged, "Maybe, but I have never been in this predicament before."

Nick paused and nodded, DA Lawrence gathered the group up and ushered them out, "We will reschedule." Lawrence shortly before walking out.

Nick muttered something angrily into the wall, "Stupid damn rule."

"What rule is that?" Greg asked.

"No pissing the important people off."


	6. The Mona Lisa

Hada bad week so I'm killing somebody off...again. Anyways yeah don't own a thing blahblahblah.

Luv to the reviewer:

**Simply Crisis: **Yes, kinda changed Greg's personality almost to his old self, the new Greg on CSI is way too serious. Yes, Joe is a spoiled brat but not you...I didn't mean to say you were a spoiled brat, just him so apologies. Updateness is on every weekend...hopefully.

Anyways plz review luv to hear from you...now I'm gonna go study for that french test that I'm sure to fail.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Six The Mona Lisa

Grissom looked up from settling his new pink toed tarantula as his phone rang, he let Jolie (as he dubbed his new tarantula) to settle in the glass tank before picking up the phone, "Grissom."

Brass breathed down the phone before saying, "I got another body here."

"What?"

"I would seriously say our killer for Michaels was a serial killer, best hurry up. Doesn't look like it's been here long." Brass informed Grissom before telling him the address.

Grissom hurried out the door informed David of another body and practically dragged Nick and Greg out the door, Cath followed interested. Grissom gave her the blue eyed stare, "What?" she asked annoyed.

"Don't you have another case you should be working on?"

"I already put it to bed, don't worry Grissom. I swear I won't compromise the evidence or something."

Grissom sighed and opened the door to his car and filed everyone in, he drove faster then he normally would. As soon as Grissom saw the lights flashing about on the police cars, he slammed hard on the break. Greg clutched the passenger side door as he nearly got whip lash, everyone hurriedly unbuckled and Greg fell to the ground, beseeching it. "Land! Glorious land!"

"No time for your antics Greg we best get moving." Nick said.

Greg sighed and gagged as the heavy stench of blood reached his nostrils, the body was sprawled on it's stomach like the last murder. However and thank god it was not headless and it still had it's clothes back on. However this time a different picture was inscribed upon the back, a very famous and missing painting at that. Yep, the Mona Lisa.

Grissom and the team pulled on their gloves as they showed their identification to the assisting officers. Just within the perimeters was Brass, looking slightly rattled as he tried to fend off the news crew from Channel 75. "I'm so glad we don't have to deal with the media." said Catherine.

"Ditto."

Grissom reached inside the deceased pockets and pulled out an ID, "Vic is named Angelena Vermount, age 25, russian."

Nick stopped for a moment, "Hey, I think I know that name."

"Why?" Greg asked shining a flashlight over the grassy park area where the body was deposited, "Did you go out with her?"

"Nah, mind you who'd ditch such a beauty? Anyways getting back on track, the last name kinda rings a bell."

Greg sat on his haunches, "Vermount...Vermount...yeah you're right. But from where?"

Cath raised an eyebrow at Grissom, he touched a finger to his lips indicating to remain silent so the two could think. "I got it. Lilly Vermount, that cheerleader from the university. Friend to our number one suspect...or number two...either way." Nick declared.

"Looks like our suspect list just keeps on getting longer and longer." Grissom said as the ME arrived. "Took you long enough."

"Yeah, got held up in traffic." David remarked as he placed his bag down on a spot which wasn't splattered with blood.

Cath took some photos of the vic's position and the blood splatter pattern all around her before nodding to David to proceed. "Probably no good getting footprints. This is a local park, I doubt one of the kids playing around here could be the killer."

David reached over and turned the vic over on her back and pointed to the nose and inside her lips, "There's bruising right there. Indicates she was smothered, might have been drugged. When we get back to the lab I'll send for a tox result as soon as possible.

"Liver temperature shows us she has only been dead for a little over two hours." David frowned and checked the vic's bare arms, "No bruises. Either she was smothered behind or the killer's quick. No defensive wounds either." he noted at the perfectly manicured nails.

Nick stood up, "Why would the murderer break his pattern."

"It could be a her." said Cath slightly miffed at the thought of woman not getting enough credit these days.

"We don't know for sure so I'll just say he. Anyways with Michaels the vic was naked, cut into pieces, beheaded, and it was done while he was drunk. With this one she still roughly has her clothes on..." he said indicating the torn back of the tank top she was wearing, "No cuts either then the back, smothered, not beheaded and so on."

"A killer's mind is a messed up place." Greg remarked holding up a burnt piece of wood and studying it. "Maybe he or she has problems with men or that one guy in particular and not with this woman."

"But if the killer had a grudge against this lady then why not do the same as Michaels?"

"He or she likes women more?" Greg asked his eyebrows raised.

Cath blew out of her mouth, "As interesting as this debate sounds. Can you wait until we get back to the lab and you two get with a profiler? Cause we got to process this scene and quickly, dawn's coming in about an hour. Don't want people swamping this place do we?" she added noting the lightening horizon.

Greg and Nick immediately ceased their argument and bent down to work. Nothing anywhere at the scene would give away the killer, the murderer was a professional as much as the team would hate to admit. "Do you think it's the same kind of knife that carved the picture in Michaels?" Greg asked.

"Well, we'll just ask Andrea to compare the marks made in each of the body's." Nick replied.

"You can't." said Cath circling around the enclosed area, " Andrea is on the next shift, she gets to rest from pulling a double the other night. Hodges I think is doing trace tonight."

Greg frowned and made the sign to ward of evil, before picking up a scarf about 50 yards away from the victim. He gave it a tentative whiff, the sickeningly sweet smell of chloroform rushed into his nostrils, he quickly bagged it before exposing himself to too much. The results would not be good, nothing else incriminating was found at the scene. The body was bagged up and driven to the morgue while the police and CSI's cleaned up the mess.

Back at the lab Greg asked Nick if he had found anything slightly related to the alcohol products to the first murder. Nick just shrugged and answered, "Nothing at his house. The alcohol he ingested did not really have a really significant signature. But I've given it to Hodges to work on..."

Greg moved out of the way as some of the day shift blew through on their way to sign in, "I'll go ask Hodges about the scarf."

"Don't get your head taken off." Nick informed him.

"I'll be a lucky man if I don't." Greg said dutifully before backing into the wall.

Nick shook his head and glared at his watch that indicated he still had a hour left on his shift. Greg made it to the lab without anymore mishaps, "So..." he drawled and bugged Hodges as he went inside his former glass cage, "What's the dealio on the chloroform, the scarf, and the fibers in the vic's mouth and nostrils."

Hodges was clearly pissed off, "First off I'm not your robotic servant. Second I'm still human and I can't do everything you ask of me all at once."

"Ahhhh...and here I thought I left my position in good hands. Now I'm just not so sure."

Hodges just glared, "I didn't say I couldn't do it."

"Uhuh...right..." said Greg skeptically.

Hodges rolled his eyes, "Whatever. The fibers matches the scarf...of course. The scarf is really expensive silk and the chloroform is unnaturally pure."

"Well. That's helpful." Greg said.

Hodges shrugged and shooed Greg out of his lab. 'That kid has sure changed a lot.' thought Hodges wistfully, he missed the colourful shirts, the loud music from hell, and most of all Greg's attitude, even if it consisted of telling everybody how the DNA results reminded him of some sort of animal's mating habits.


	7. The Violinest

MWHAHAHA...cough hack cough I am turning your brain to mush again. I got a cold and I'm typing this out cause I'm bored and feeling a bit cold.

To the faithful reviewer (well I am getting bored with thankz for the review(s)):

**Simply Crisis:** There's gonna be more murders ta tell ya the truth, but you'll have to wait and find out. If I have the time to crawl out of bed then I'll check your story out...possibly become infatuated and forget all about getting my homework done. And your prayers have been answered about 2 days since the last one...I'm getting better at updating...well at least this story.

Anyways gotta go before my computer decides to crash. Plz review and I'll see you next week.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Seven The Violinest

Busking wasn't terribly profitable, but Ryan did need the extra money to pay his tuition fees. From working and helping out in restaurants and book stores he had enough to live by. Ryan flexed his cold fingers, god it was cold this time of year when the sparse rains came. But at least it wasn't raining...yet. He placed his violin under his chin and played a lively jig to warm up his fingers as people stopped to listen as they passed through the park in which he chose to be his busking place for now.

Soon infatuated couples were dancing and little kids left candy in his violin case, some of the older people did part with some of their precious money. As he finished the jig, someone called out a song, a low and sorrowful lament. He closed his eyes as he played it, he didn't exactly have it all down for memory but that's where improvisation came in handy. Hey, it's not like they noticed anyways.

Trina was marching around the crowds, no doubt looking for something weird to play with. But oh well, it's not like anyone would dare kidnap her. Well into his second hour of busking his fingers started to cramp, he shrugged it off until the very last note of a long and way too sweet love song. He smiled apologetically to the people waiting for the next tune and grabbed his sludge-disguised-as-coffee and drank out of it, warming his cold and cramped fingers. The people started to disperse, reluctantly as they saw that Ryan wouldn't be playing for a while.

Greg and Nick had a hard time finding Ryan, god it's like he disappeared off the face of the planet. He was not a home or at one of his various work places which ranged from one side of the city to the other or anywhere at all. Finally they stopped the car and got out to buy something to eat and drink at a stall on the sidewalk near a park. Nick waited in line as Greg got bored, he perked up as he heard the sweet and melodious notes of a fairly old love song. He followed the sounds and there right smack dab in the middle of the crowd was their missing suspect.

Nick came up and asked him where he had been, Greg pointed entranced at Ryan's playing. Nick swatted him on the head to Greg's indignation, "What?"

"Will you quite looking like a love sick puppy? We need to interview him."

"Hey this is a good song."

Nick looked at Greg surprised, it's not everyday Greg admitted to liking other kinds of music besides hard core rock. Greg frowned as the playing stopped and Ryan went and got a coffee. Nick dragged Greg along as they approached Ryan, "Mr. Anderson?" Nick asked.

Ryan jerked up his head in surprise, "Yeah?" he said sneezing.

"We'd like you to answer some questions." Nick said.

"Shoot." he said turning around.

"Officially."

Ryan turned back around, his expression unreadable. He flicked his eyes over to where Trina was taking a break from her frollicking. He whistled and called her over, much to the distress of Nick's ears. Trina ran and sprung onto Nick's back and happily licked his ears. "She likes you." said Ryan thoughtfully as he packed up his violin.

"I can see that." said Nick bending over as Trina bit and pulled a lock of his hair.

Ryan wondered if he should let the CSI suffer or take pity on him, in the end he chose the latter and lifted Trina into his arms after chiding her to stop. She wrestled for a moment and stopped entirely, seemingly docile. Greg stifled a chuckle, "So you bring your car down here?"

"No, my apartment is not far from here." Ryan said.

"Well perfect, one less tankful of pollution." said Greg.

Nick and Greg led the way as the heaven's opened up and cried, they made a dash for the car from under the cover of trees. Trina barked miserably in the downpour, within seconds they had reached the shelter of the tahoe. Although now their clothes and hair were plastered flat on their bodies, Greg snorted as he looked dispairingly at his darkened hair and combed it back from his face.

Ryan's hair dripped it's way into Trina's fur and chilled her, she made her discomfort known by snapping at a strand of his hair and pounced into the next seat over. The CSI's didn't talk much to either him or to their partner, the silence however wasn't complete do to the fact of the damned rain hammering over and over again onto the car. Ryan wouldn't have been surprised to find little dents on the car once this storm was over.

They reached their destination, Nick parked the car and filed everybody into the building. They left Ryan in an interrogation room where there were these funky two way mirrors. Trina unfortunately had to stay outside, 'I hope she desecrates something out there, namely someones pant leg.' thought Ryan darkly.

The waiting didn't take long though, but a different old man stepped into the interrogation room with Nick Stokes. The old man went right to the filling the recorder in, Ryan gathered that he was Detective Jim Brass. Ryan crossed his arms and legs and let his right foot jiggle in time with some lively jig that was playing insistently over and over in his mind.

Brass cut to the chase more quickly then the other old guy with the tarantulas in his office did, "So the night that Tim Michaels was found dead in his apartment where were you?"

Ryan thought about it before carefully saying, "I was out busking in the same park that he dragged me from." he nodded to Nick.

"Can anyone verify that?"

"I don't know can anyone?" Ryan asked leading him on, "If there is anyone then you'll have to talk to the regulars that come to the park at night."

"Regulars?"

"You know junkies, homeless bums, etc etc..."

"Would you know them if they were put in a line?"

"Come on." Ryan said rolling his eyes, "It's dark in the middle of the night, do you really think I give a damn to who's dancing to my jigs?"

Brass sighed and gave that one a lost cause for now, "What about yesterday night?"

"I was working in that fancy hotel down the strip." Ryan said.

"Can you be more specific?"

"The Rampart?" Ryan said.

"You don't sound so sure there kid."

"Well I don't exactly keep track of which one of Sam Braun's fancy hotels I work each night. Sometimes it's at the Rampart and sometimes at the Tangiers and sometimes I work other shifts in his other hotels."

"I'm guessing you'll still be elusive about who can vouch for you."

"I work anywhere and everywhere I couldn't name five people where I work without getting them mixed up." Ryan said getting slightly bored.

"You know this is not looking good for you." Brass said.

Ryan cocked his head, "So? I got a poor memory."

Nick finally spoke up, "I didn't seem poor to me when you were playing in the park."

"Well." Ryan said leaning forward, "Have you never heard about improvisation? I don't have half those songs to memory, I can play a part of it and improvise the rest."

Nick and Brass exchanged looks, "So don't your listeners notice?"

Ryan shook his head, "As long as they get entertainment they don't care. Besides why are you asking about last night?"

"Do you know Angelena Vermount?"

Ryan shrugged, "Yeah sure she owns the Aroura, I've worked for her a couple of times. She's nice even if Lilly's parents disowned her."

Brass raised an eyebrow, "She was disowned?"

"What?" Ryan asked incredously, "Don't you know? She was disowned cause she was a homosexual and she decided to run a homosexual bar."

Nick cleared his throat clearly uncomfortable and Brass stared wide eyed at Ryan, "What? It doesn't mean I'm gay." he said indignantly.

"Er...we'll need the address to the Aroura. Please." Brass said.

Ryan rolled his eyes and wondered if they were some kinda of homophobics, he gave them the address to the Aroura and asked exasperatedly, "Can I go now?"

"Uh...yeah."

After Ryan left, Greg clapped a hand onto Nick's shoulder, "Nice going there, grasshopper. He didn't give anything incriminating away and you're not suppose to look uncomfortable whenever the issue of homosexuals come up."

"It's just...it's just weird ya know." Nick sighed.

"You and your damn Texan rules." said Greg, "Lighten up, man. This is Vegas where the weird range to the weirdest."

"Uhuh...yeah."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"The murderer could be anybody that hated homosexuals and drugs." Greg said.

"Well ain't that helpful."

"What?"

Nick rolled his eyes, "Never mind. Let's go check out the Aroura."

"Hey, man. If you shy on me I swear I'll pummel you into the ground."

"Deal." said Nick shaking Greg's hand firmly.


	8. Lunatics

Yeah for another update, my schedule is getting rattled around a lot so I'm not sure I'll be able to update every week. But don't worry I'll try.

I know this has nothing to do with CSI well with one of CSI spinoffs but oh well, does anybody know when CSI: NY premieres in Canada? I mean I haven't been able to catch it at all this week, cause of all those retarded new shows and old shows coming back. Okay they may not be retarded but they still mess up my perfectly organized world. It would be much appreciated if someone knows, I'm an idiot I know.

Thankz for the review:

**Mma63:** Why thank you and I like Nick too...when he's not bald mate when he's not bald. Not a good look for Nicky.

Plz review and I'll hopefully see you soon with the next chapter. Wow I'm really getting up there in words aye?

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Eight Lunatics

The smells, the lights, the place looked exactly the same since the last time Cath had come in here, that was a couple months back when she had asked Sam for a million dollars for Nick's ransom, waste of time that was really. But this time she had dragged Warrick along with her. Even though he was married to Tina, Cath's hopes weren't exactly dashed to pieces, yet. As always she found it hurtful to see her father flirting with young pretty things, while she knew her mother was sitting at her old home, waiting...and waiting...and waiting...

As always those hookers gave Cath 'the inspection' they didn't want any competition of course, would be a lost of business and money. Sam gazed up from his comfortable seat and introduced them to his buddies. "Sa-Dad..." Cath said, "Can I ask you something?...In private?"

Sam smiled an actually genuine smile, "Sure Cath." He dislodged those clingy hookers and followed Cath and Warrick to a more quieter room, "So...what did you wanna aske me?"

Cath opened her portfolio and took out a picture of Ryan, "Do you recognize him?"

Sam frowned slightly and tapped a finger on the polished wooden desk, "His face kinda rings a bell, he works as a waiter at some of my hotels I think. I'll have to check the files, but I'm pretty sure he does work for me."

"You remember this why?" Warrick asked. "There must be 100's of waiters and waitresses here, let alone your other hotels, how come you recognize this perticular one?"

Sam looked down at his perfectly polished shoes, "Because I walked in on him once cleaning the dishes, it was late at night and I thought no one was still here. I was finished some of my paperwork and I had a sudden craving for pickles, I walked in the kitchen. Heard someone talking, thought it was a burgular and low and behold. There he is talking to the dishes, cups, and cuttlery about the weather in french.

"Thought it was just some sort of ploy to get more money out of sympathetic people, but the longer I stayed there, the more his conversations made sense at least as much as a one sided coversation french can get. He moved from pleasantries, if you can call it that, to politics. Now all this french I couldn't understand, but some easy words I could. I think he was scamming the American school system or something about us being stuck up bastards who are too busy studying our wonderful history to ever consider their neighbours up in the north.

"Personally I know he meant Canada and I knew what he was saying was true, but you gotta stand up for your country and be proud. I interrupted him from where I was standing like 5 feet away, he jumped, dropped a dish, and stood there stuttering."

Cath was hooked on to the little story and couldn't let Sam just stop there, "So what happened?"

"Well, I gave him a tongue lashing, he seemed to humble a bit, so I left. The last glimpse I saw of him was of him scurrying off for the broom. Now that I think of it, I never got my pickles."

"Thanks, Dad." hey it was getting easier and easier every time, "That helps a lot."

"Anything for my daughter." He patted her arm and showed Cath and Warrick out the door.

"Well." Warrick said, "That was much pleasanter then I thought it would be."

"Well join the club, so what do we know about this kid?"

"He's schizophrenic?" Warrick asked.

"Or just plain loonie, hopefully he'll have a medical record we can check into."

Maybe it was because it blended in with the other 'gypsy' stuff in 'gypsy' central or that it wasn't exactly flashy, but Greg and Nick had the hardest time finding the Aroura. They drove around in one big circle, Greg pointing out that they had missed the turn again and again, finally Nick's temper were at it's lowest point. Nick was ready to snap, but god took pity on Greg who was the only person nearby and Nick spotted the sign, The Aroura.

They parked the car and studyed the Aroura from a mere 20 paces away from it, no flashy signs that showed off anything provocative, nothing that indicated it was for the homosexuals. Flowering trees, Nick would hazard a guess at them for being fake, shielded the windows effectively from prying eyes. They opened the glass door and walked in, they were greeted by a pretty looking waitress, "For two?" she asked saucilly and winked at another older waitress.

"Um...uh..." Nick stuttered.

Greg rolled his eyes, 'oh crap his brain is shutting down again' so he answered for Nick, "No actually we're here to ask you about your boss, Angelena Vermount."

The pretty waitress frowned, "She didn't come in today, is something wrong?"

"Miss Trevors." wow, you can gather a lot from name tags, thought Greg, "We're afraid that Miss Vermount was found dead in a local park on the other side of the town."

She gasped and gripped a chair as her knuckles turned white, Nick manoevered Trevors and the other lady into chairs so they didn't collapse and hit their heads. Concussions arn't fun, to tell you the truth and the ladies, Greg didn't doubt, would not be happy with huge lumps on the sides of their heads.

"Miss..."

"No no don't call me Trevors...I don't like that name, makes me sound like a guy. Call me Angie and my partner Cassy."

"Angie, Cassy." Nick said soothingly, "Can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Angelena?"

"Besides all the homophobics in the world and her parents, not anyone I know of personally. She was always nice and didn't do anything provocative to nervous people." Angie replied.

"A question, why are you open today? Doesn't the boss open it up?"

"Well she trusts us with the keys, since sometimes she can be held up with personal matters. So if she isn't here, one of us opens it up so we won't have to stand in the cold during winter or bake to death in the summer." said Cassy putting a reassuring arm around a weeping Angie's shoulders, she didn't look far from crying either.

"Do you know a Ryan Anderson?" Greg asked.

"He's a nice kid, helps out when we're full. Too bad he's not gay, cause I know a couple of guys itching for him." Cassy said smiling slightly as tears streamed down her face leaving mascara tracks, "I remember he threw them out as soon as one of them pulled him onto his lap and spilled the drinks all over the place. He was muttering nonsense the rest of the evening."

"Thank you for you time and I'm sorry for your lose." Greg said as he and Nick got up to leave.

"You know." said Angie, "If ever you guys wanna come over for a drink, it'll be on the house."

"Yeah thanks, by the way who gets the place after Angelena dies?"  
"Well, I'm not sure. You'll have to read her will, she's been jumping round it forever. She was totally certain that she wouldn't die when she was old and rotting away senile in a chair. I guess her wish won't come true now." said Angie sadly and started crying all over again.

Nick and Greg left after trying to console the crying the waitresses, but nothing could be done. Nick's cell rang as soon as they stepped out the door, "Stokes, oh hey Cath. What...really? Now that's interesting, kay bye."

"So?"

"Cath was too interested in this little story to remember asking Sam if Ryan was working there that night."

"Oh oh oh, I love stories, so what's it about?"

"All in short they think he's gone over the moon with what he was doing. Apparently he was talking in french to the dishes he was suppose to be washing in the Rampart."

"Ohhh, even I haven't done that before."

"That's what scares me."  
"Really? Someone talking in a foreign language to dishes, scare you?"

"Slightly."

"I'll be sure to do more of that then." Greg said teasingly.

"Don't, you dare."

"Oh I dare, I dare."

"I'll clobber you." Nick threatened.

"Undoubtly, but I'll still do it."

"ARGH!"

Greg grinned the grin that lite up about everything within a 100 mile radius, even pissed off Nick grinned. Nick slung an arm over Greg's shoulder and proceeded to head back to the lab. Before they were even at their car Greg burst out, "You know what? I think they were implying something back there."

"What?" Nick asked completely lost.

"Well it's for gays and stuff right? If we come in there for a drink it'll make us look gay and we being a..."

Nick hit Greg hard over the spiky head.


	9. Part Time Stalkers

WEEE! My last update till next weekend...but there's nothin fun when your hair gets butchered, sob and cries nosily. All better now anyways yeah. But I protest there is nothing justice about getting your butt length hair butchered to your shoulders...another 3 years of hard earned hair lost in 10 secs.

Thankz for the review:

**Simply Crisis:** Mwhahaha Ryan's a loonie and I like it that way...let's just say I've been reading too much stuff about loonies.

Plz review.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Nine Becoming Part Time Stalkers

Well, the university hadn't changed much...still the same old same old smelly and stuffy place which was the perfect breeding ground for bullies. It could be the place for intellectuals, but they were swamped by all the other popular people that the smart people start to mutate into not so smart people. Ryan stood in the world where both exists, well more to the geeky side, but meh. The only reason why, was because Lilly had made him out as the perfect boyfriend.

Yep, girls swamping him at every turn gasping and exclaiming about the atrocities done to him. It could get very irratating after a while, Sandra, the most clingy of all actually had the nerve to latch onto him. He didn't snap as he usually did, maybe he was going soft, or he just didn't care anymore to see the hurt in her eyes everytime he did. Well you gotta be nice sometime in your life right?

Well anyways Sandra she was a real piece of work, she displayed innocence even if she didn't have any. Always the first one to cry and she was smart. Ryan guessed that was the plus side, he had chemistry and biology with her and he guessed she was okay...Lilly that bitch had been trying to push her onto him for all the years they had gone to university together. It wasn't that she didn't find Sandra pretty, it was just that he was more attracted to a Sandra's blonde counterpart. Yep, Lilly herself.

Not that he'd ever admit that, Ryan was way way to embarrassed to even consider asking her out. She was his best friend and best friends generally do not ask each other out and Ryan was the kind of guy that waited for the ladies to come to him. Not exactly the best tactic of all, but it worked...sometimes.

He smiled at Sandra who was at least a million inches shorter then him, he was pretty short himself standing only about 5'8". Okay some may say otherwise, but compared to the other guys at the university he may as well be a midget for all they cared.

Sandra's face lite up and she brushed her dark brown locks away from her face, her dark skin gleamed in the sunlight. She had one of the most sweetest and smoothest voices ever, "So back for more torture?"

"You know it." Ryan said and wrinkled his nose at the dean who rushed past.

Sandra chuckled and leaned or shall we say snuggled more closer into Ryan's side, not that it hurt but after a few moments it did tend to get uncomfy. He didn't say anything, but walked to their first class of the day, which happened to be biology.

From the shadows a pair of jealous sapphire eyes peeked out and followed Ryan and Sandra's progress down the hallway. Well she had brought it down on herself, she was so stupid as not to see the sign's earlier. Stupid...stupid...stupid...

At the crime lab, Grissom jumped out of his seat faster then a scared rabbit would, "You want to what!"

Jim Brass cocked an eyebrow, "Not my fault, Grissom, the sheriff want your people to drop all cases and give them to Ecklie that doesn't have to do with this serial killer. He also wants you to put your guys on surveillance on your main suspects at night."

"But that...but that..." for once in his life Gris couldn't think of anything smart to say.

Brass looked amused, "Hey not my fault. Just following instructions."

"Yeah." Grissom steamed and headed out the door.

There he was met by the ass kissing Conrad Ecklie, okay he shouldn't be thinking those kinds of thoughts. Especially after the kidnapping with Nick, but Ecklie rattled even the sturdiest of chains. "Thanks for the cases, Grissom."

Grissom glared at his retreating back and went to inform his people about the change in plans. He walked into the break room and quickly evaluated that Sara was not there. "Where's Sara? She's never one to be tardy." especially since she wanted to impress him.

"Oh." said Cath where she sat playing poker with Warrick, "She phoned and said she would be a couple minutes late. Her car broke down and she had to take it in to be fixed.

"Hit me! Crap!" Cath said as she went over 21 and threw down her cards.

Warrick chuckled and claimed the candy on the table, Grissom raised an eyebrow at them. He also took in Nick who was sitting and staring at nothin and Greg who was sleeping and drooling all over the couch that he had claimed for himself. Grissom thought maybe he needed an air horn to wake them all up into their serious mood.

Grissom sat and waited for Sara, Cath was claiming she could win back the candy if Warrick would give her another chance. Warrick shook his head and asked what she had to offer. "More candy!" Cath shouted, "And a cup of Greg's coffee."

"What bout me coffee." asked Greg groggily.

"Nothing, Greggo, just go to sleep." Cath said in her baby voice.

It had the desired effect and Greg was drifting off once again. Sara rushed in and of course woke everybody out of their trances. "Sara you're here." Grissom said stating the obvious.

"Well no duh. Otherwise I wouldn't be here." Sara said throwing off her scarf which hit Greg on the way over to a heap of clothing.

Greg looked like he tasted something foul and immediately turned his back to her to fall asleep once again. Nick shook him awake and hissed at him, "Assignments!"

That got Greg sitting bolt upright, Grissom started, "Jim has just informed me that we are to drop all cases that has nothing to do with the Death Artist."

"Oh so we're calling him or her the Death Artist now?" Nick asked.

"No that's what the media are calling him. It's after a book called the Death Artist you know, but the guy who did it actually used the bodies as part of his master pieces, not carving the pictures onto their backs." Grissom said.

"What book have you not read?" Greg asked as Sara shooed his feet away for a place to sit.

"There's plenty of books I haven't read..." he was interrupted by fuming Cath who had just lost all over her sugar.

"Just get on with it."

"As I was saying we are to hand over all the cases that have nothing to do with the Death Artist to Ecklie's team. We are put on surveillance of our main suspects form dusk till dawn."

"So..." said Greg, "2/3's are on surveillance and 1/3 are doing all the work? Well that hardly seems excitable."

"Not my fault." Grissom said, "Sara and I will do the lab work, Warrick and Cath will look out for our rich boy and you and Nick will take the loonie."

"All right." they all sighed and got moving.

Not the most eventful task in the whole world, Joe was being a good daddy's pet and had went to bed early for the night. Cath had fallen asleep and Warrick's head was drooping every five seconds, trying to keep his mind clear but preoccupied. He made the mistake of looking over at Cath and for the 100th time he regretted marrying Tina so soon, he should've sorted out his priorites first before going ahead. Marriage was a big thing and he couldn't just leave Tina in the loop, he loved her too...but...

Warrick shook his head clear of those thoughts and cursed the government, why couldn't he marry two ladies at the same time? No no no...that wouldn't be good, they'd fight to death. Ha...some things can never be corrected properly and he hoped that Cath did not hate him for choosing Tina over her...wait wait wait where's that little rich son of a bitch going?

He woke Cath up and they both watched him climb out from his window about 3 stories from the ground and shimmy down the metal pipe that was conviently placed beside his window. Warrick and Cath watched as he got into a car and drove off, Warrick lazily turned the car on and drove after him. Too bad they weren't police, because they'd be issuing speeding tickets right about now.

Warrick followed him to the not so wealthy part of the city, but still a couple of notches above the slums. He parked in front of a small time bar and got out, Warrick slowed and parked his car on the opposite side of the street and killed the engine. There suspect got out and was met by a gaggle of people coming down the street, they all disappeared into the miniature bar.

Warrick said, "Now we wait."

"Yeah."

Then Warrick's cellphone rang...


	10. Sugar High

If you haven't read in my profile, I'll inform you...My computer got attacked by a virus and I can't update every weekend now, cause obviously I can't turn on my fricking computer. So I wrote this during my lunch periods at school, be happy I can even do that. I just want you guys to know that I'll try putting one out at least every month, kay?

Anyways luv to the reviewer:

**Kylie Anderson:** Aw thankyou, you know this reminds me I passed my french test. YIPEE! and unfortunately fate hates me very much.

Plz review and I'll try to get the next one up as soon as possible, you may be kinda confused or maybe not cause I wrote this over a course of weeks instead of days so my mind forgets what I wanna write.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Ten Sugar High

Warrick's phone rang; he picked it up, "Warrick."

"Hey, hey, hey. What are you two doing here." Said a totally wired Greg.

"I'm doing my honorable duty as a part time stalker, now what do you want?"

Greg sounded slightly miffed as Nick took the cell away, by force from Greg, "Hey Warrick, you think we should go in?"

"Possibly, but half of us need to stay out here in case they leave. Besides what good does going in do?"

"Uh…" Nick paused.

Warrick heard the very distant sound of Greg shouting, "Drinks for everyone."

Nick whispered into the phone, "I think he's high."

"Well thanks for stating the obvious, Sherlock. But seriously what good does going in there do?"

Again with Greg, "Convo's weird weird convo's."

"You know, Greg actually has a good idea for once." Nick said.

"What a surprise."

"Hey!" Greg shouted, "No stealing my ideas."

"Let's just let him go in." Warrick said.

"And let him ruin everything? I don't think so."

"Then let someone go with him." Warrick said.

"Yeah but who? Oh I'm gonna flip a coin, call it in the air?"

"What and you cheat? I can't see you from here behind a car windshield you know. Why don't we just let Cath and Greg go in by themselves and we be on guard duty?"

Nick sounded resigned as he answered, "Fine."

Warrick looked over at Cath who was feeling a bit left out and told her that she and Greg were going into the bar to spy on their woebegone charges. Greg and Cath got out of their passenger side of the car and met up at the doorway. Nick and Warrick couldn't help but laugh as Greg went all hyper…again for the second time of the night. "You know." Said Warrick on the phone, "He's gonna pay for caffeine overdose the next morning and then you won't have a partner."

"Oh well. I'll just drag him out of bed. Besides how interesting can stalking get? It'll probably be his apartment, university, bar, work, and then home." Nick said.

"Maybe, maybe not. Hey you want pizza?" Warrick asked as he spotted a pizza place next to the bar.

"Yeah, thanks how bout pepperoni?"

"Okay one pepperoni pizza coming right up, you keep watch on the door." Warrick said and then snapped his phone shut before crossing the street to the pizza place.

Meanwhile inside Cath and hyper Greg found a seat near the table occupied by the people they were suppose to watch and other peoples that they assumed were also from the university. The table however was not in direct sight of the big table, but they could see the big table, which was cool.

A waitress swaggered over and took their orders; she had the slowest and the most provocative walk that Cath had ever seen on earth. Greg was leaning over the side of the table trying to catch a sight of something other then multicolored skirts. Cath flicked his head and told him to pay attention and not to the girl. Greg was in a bad mood for a while till the waitress showed up with their orders and gave him a peck on the cheek. Cath shook her head and peeked at the big table, they were playing spin the bottle and there were some making out going on.

Joe had his arm slung over a sulky blonde while their other suspect was chatting with a pretty black girl, her sparkling white teeth showed as she laughed at his jokes. A strand of hair hung loosely, enticingly in her eyes, Cath snorted, the oldest trick in the books. Cath didn't have a chance to find out if the guy was smart enough to avoid "the trick" cause then her charge was walking out the door with the blonde in tow. "I'm going to tail my guy. You stay here and do nothing stupid okay?"

"Mhmm." Greg said not looking from the waitress who was flirting with him about 10 yards away.

Cath snorted in disgust before leaving, Cath phoned Warrick, "Warrick."

"Yeah Warrick, our target's on the move again."

"Yippee." Warrick said without enthusiasm in his voice, "Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Not yet. They're still on foot."

"Be careful, Cath. I don't want a dead partner you know."

"Warrick…you worry too much. I'll be fine, see you in a bit." Cath snapped her cell shut, as Warrick got ready to protest.

Warrick glared at his phone and scanned the street as he picked up a piece of pizza from half of a box. He easily spotted Cath tailing about 25 feet from two people; he waved a goodbye to Nick and started the car. He slowly drove down the empty street and stopped as the couple got into a car. Not the fancy car that Joe drove but a more battered up version of a Mercedes Benz. Such a shame, Warrick thought.

Cath signaled for Warrick to wait, Joe and the girl drove off as Cath got into the passenger side of the car. They followed at a moderate pace neither too far behind or too close to the car; once or twice they almost had a heart attack as they almost lost the car. Finally all the excitement was over as they ended up on Las Vegas's version of lover's lane.

"Oh god." Said Warrick.

"Afraid?" asked Cath teasingly.

"No, not really."

"Then shut up and keep the car in sight."

Couple of minutes passed and Warrick couldn't resist, "Kinky."

Cath punched him in the arm.

For Greg and Nick, everything was boring as usual, nothing near as kinky as Warrick's and Cath's charge. Greg slowly came off of his caffeine and sugar high and started paying attention to his assigned assignment. Nothing unusual going on except for Ryan's girlfriend making baby eyes at Ryan who was like totally oblivious to what was going on. Talk bout frigid aye?

Greg turned around and started flirting and teasing some probably useless information out of the cute waitress. After done with, tediously as Greg would put it extracting info from her, he turned around to find. Poof! Ryan had disappeared and right under his nose too, all that was left was a distraught girlfriend and some totally smashed teenagers. Greg panicked and picked up his cell phone, "Hey Nick?"

"Mmm?" Nick sounded like he was stuffing his face, which he probably was.

"Did you see Ryan leave?"

"No, why?"

"He disappeared."

"Greg you're suppose to be keeping an eye on him."

"Yeah, I know, but he just like…Poof…and…yeah…"

"Okay…okay…Greg I'll go check if his car is gone." A few minutes later, which seemed to Greg like a million years, Nick started up the conversation again, "Yeah, he's just getting in his car, you coming out or what?"

"Yeah, yeah be there in a sec."

Greg clicked his phone shut, threw some cash onto the table, made a seductive (in Greg's little world) face at the waitress who winked back and twirled a lock of hair. He hurried out of the small bar and into the open car door, he sniffed the air. "Pizza?"

"Yeah there's still a slice left if you want it. Now come on close the door."

Greg grabbed the sad looking slice and stuffed it into his mouth as Nick drove after Ryan's SUV.

Back at the lab, Sara stood totally stock still staring at the wall, that was how bored she was. A hand landed on Sara's shoulder and shocked her out of daydreaming, her reflexes kicked in and she backhanded the person who had his or her hand on her shoulder. Fortunately it was not some weird serial killer who was going to kill her, but unfortunately it happened to be her boss.

Sara gasped in horror and started to profusely apologize, Grissom rubbed his sore cheek but shrugged before smiling, "No harm done."

"Oh um…by the way…that case…I found out that the victim's both lived in the same apartment building. Apparently it's some rich kid hide out or something like that."

Grissom nodded, "Well that helps. The next victim should or could be from that same building, but…"

"Assume nothing and assume everything. Yeah I know." Sara said rolling her eyes.

Archie stuck his head into the break room, "Uh…guys I got that surveillance tape from the apartment building."

Sara stared at Grissom, "There's a surveillance camera in that apartment?"

"Yeah." Grissom said in his totally preppy way, "Rich kids, rich building, therefore more things to steal."

"Oh." Said Sara as she followed Grissom and Archie to Archie's domain.

Archie booted up his computer and typed for a minute or two, he pulled up the surveillance tape and paused the tape. He pointed, "Vic number one entered the building at 21:04:15 and Vic number two left the building at 22:20:45 on the day she died. And lookie here." He fast forwarded the tape on the day of the death of Michaels to approximately 22:01:59 and paused it, "Our suspect number one."

And sure enough there was Ryan walking up the stairs of the apartment building, Grissom stared and said, "Fast forward it to which floor he walks off on."

Yep, the floor where Tim Michaels had met his end.


	11. Anger Needs Managing

Yeah, another chapter...mwhahaha my superier typing skills. Anyways I've just been informed my computer is deader then dead, I'll pray it finds a place in computer heaven mates. BTW I won't be having another computer till...after Christmas...Yikes.

Kinda disappointed...no freaking reviews...come on...I need reviews...plz review...

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Eleven Anger Needs Managing

Ecklie knocked on the door to Grissom's entomology lab or if you want his office, Grissom looked up from a fairly entertaining article about dung beetles. "Did you know…" Grissom started.

"No I don't want to know, I'm here to remind you it's that time of the year again." Ecklie said.

Grissom blinked, "When dung beetles start to mate?"

"No." Ecklie said, "Interns."

"Oh, and?" Grissom asked finally getting on track.

"And, you're suppose to be there, right now, in a meeting." Ecklie said making a shooing motion to the door.

"Oh right." Grissom said practically jumping out of his seat.

Ecklie shook his head and followed Grissom to the break room or now known as the conference room. Catherine and Brass were already there staring at the long list of name and looking slightly overwhelmed. Ecklie sat down and said, "Now that, Grissom, has finally decided to join us…"

"No no, he can't intern here…seriously Brass, that kids got a 32 average in chemistry…" Cath said a little too loudly.

Ecklie cleared his throat, "Moving on, we can choose the interns when we come to it."

Cath looked a bit sheepish, "Sorry."

"Now…" Ecklie started his little lecture that they went through every year, seriously the guy needed to change the lecture around and make it more interesting.

Grissom's mind wandered back to his dung beetle article, while Cath and Brass decided to battle it out, rather quietly about some kids failing grade. Grissom glanced at the long sheet of names and his eyes caught on one in particular, it took a while for his sleep fogged mind to catch up with his subconscious recognition. There the fifteenth name down was Ryan Anderson, Grissom's brow knitted slightly and a frown showed on his face.

The names were in alphabetical order, not percent average, otherwise Grissom would've seen his name instantly. Grissom stood up, disturbing Ecklie from his long and monotonous speech. "What now?"

"We can't let him intern here or anywhere else, he might…"

"Grissom, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Our suspect, we can't let him come intern here he might compromise the evidence or something." Grissom said.

"Unlikely, look one test and then three proficiencies if he compromises anything then he gets charged and you know it. Look if it makes you feel better, let his proficiencies be the already analyzed evidence from your serial killer crime scenes. If anything is amiss then report him and get him kicked out of school or something like that. Besides Grissom, you don't have absolute proof he even did it."

Grissom sat down reluctantly, tightlipped "Alright, but he works for the dayshift until you are sure he can be trusted."

"Fine."

Nick passed by the lab on a totally uneventful day, he had just left stalker duty to take a break in the break room, but a sniffle coming from the lab stopped him. He peeked in knowing that it was Andrea on duty not Hodges, seriously Nick wouldn't know what to do if Hodges started crying in the middle of his shift. That was a scary idea, as Nick stepped into the lab.

Nick noticed instantly that something was wrong, Andrea had her back turned towards him and she wasn't in her regular getup. Usually she wore a modified black old-fashioned dress, much shorter and much more frillier, bells and hanging pieces of fabric made her look like some weird exotic bird of paradise. What's more scary she was wearing 5-inch heels or close to it.

From what Nick could see, Andrea was wearing what she usually wore to court, not that she went often. "Andrea?" Nick asked almost scared that the aliens had possessed her like what David kept on going about.

Another sniffle, "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

"What do you expect." She turned around.

Nick's eyes immediately widened and that exact moment Warrick walked in too, coerced into coming by the small talk. "Wow, talk about career Barbie." Warrick said.

"Warrick, you're a married man." Nick said and hit Rick in the arm.

Andrea sniffed again then looked down in horror at her black suit and looked up horrified, "You're right, OH MY GOD!"

Of course that had to attract Grissom in, "Andrea?" he said an eyebrow raised, "What's the matter?"

"This is the matter." Andrea said and grabbed a sheet of paper and slapped it into Grissom's chest, "I'm…I'm…" she started crying and little rivers of mascara ran down her face, "Violating the dress code or…or something."

The guys all looked alarmed, Grissom with his fairly bad people skills actually said something right for a change, "You know what? Screw it." He crinkled up the sheet in a ball and threw it in the dustbin, "Now…will you get back to work."

Andrea wiped her eyes, therefore smearing more mascara onto her face and nodded, "Can I lose the shoes?"

Grissom nodded and left, Andrea started hopping around, before she managed to grab one of her heels and flinging it off. She ran around, "Home free!"

Nick shook his head, woman and clothes, what was so important about them anyways? "So, what about those knife marks?"

Andrea stopped in mid stride and promptly said, "Not the same kind of marks, my guess the second knife was some kind of modern day dagger thing, or something close to it. You know why do you keep coming to me about these marks, you should go over and bug Bobby in Ballistics."

Grissom cocked an eyebrow and left with Warrick, Nick stayed where he was, "Why Ballistics?"

"Cause their apartment is about impressions and whatever…" Andrea said taking a tissue and wetting it with water.

"But you're a weapons expert." Nick said.

"But I don't work in Ballistics." Andrea said.

Nick gave it up for a lost cause and headed out the door to get his coffee, he couldn't argue effectively due to the fact that his head seemed to be stuffed with goose feathers at that point.

Taking his long sip of coffee, he headed back to the lab to prove his point; at first glance the lab was empty. Strange, Andrea was always there unless she was on break, and her break was in half an hour. Nick wandered into the back and there was Andrea, her back turned towards him changing.

Nick was the kind of guy who prided himself for not being a peeking tom, but that one moment in his life destroyed his reputation. Although he didn't see anything special, he still was standing there gawking at the lean tanned back presented to him. A tattoo of an ancient Egyptian eagle was inked on her back, rippling every time she moved.

After those short seconds, she put on her fairy dress (as Nick referred to it) and turned around. Nick felt his face flush, an interesting sensation around his lower regions. Andrea walked up to him, "See anything you like?"

"Uh…uh…uh…no?" it came out a question.

Andrea glared at him and pushed away, "Get out of my lab then."

She stalked away and Nick went after her, he grabbed her arm, "Andrea…sorry…I've just never been in this predicament before…" Nick trailed off, unable to explain.

She patted his arm, "That's okay Nicky, now I'll ask you again, like what you see?"

Nick went an interesting shade of magenta, "Yes."

"Aw…Nicky's embarrassed." Andrea said before giving Nick a kiss on the cheek.

Nick growled and stormed out, totally forgetting about the point he was suppose to argue about. Andrea smiled deviously and did a little dance on the spot, causing a bunch of test tubes to tip precariously over the desk. She made a grab for them and kept dancing to a tune in her head.

At the end of the day, Grissom's mood was getting fairly dark, snapping at everyone within shouting distance. That's pretty far, well at least it got the building free of people looking for some overtime pay.


	12. Proficiencies

Hey hey hey, yeah short, crappy, doesn't make sense, I've heard it all so plz spare me. Anywhoo Boxing Day almost 2 months away, I'll be getting my new computer then and therefore you get a huge update. Luv me much?

Thankz for the review:

**Mma63: **Uh yeah, I'm starting to think none of my chappies make sense anymore. Especially this one and yeah embarressed Nicky, gotta luv it.

Anywhoo plz review.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twelve Proficiencies

Ryan seriously thought he was going to shrivel up and die under the cold glare of one of the lab techs. Why oh why did they split up the interns? Ryan stared into the microscope, now what the heck was that squiggly thing? He knew it somewhere deep in his subconscious mind, but nothing was coming to his mind right now. He stared at his watch, his pen tapping idly on his notepad and panicked slightly 15 minutes left and he couldn't figure out what that squiggly thing was.

He did it the old fashioned and very slow way, running through ever skin type he knew of or could think of on the spot. Then wait, maybe…just maybe…yes, that's right fish scales. Ryan mentally gave himself a pat on the back and wrote it down as the timer went off. Phew! Next was the interview with the leaders of this weird charade, Ryan couldn't help dreading it, he was totally not good with people.

Ryan twitched as he stared at the preserved fetal pigs and little animals floating around in their jars. Butterflies and moths were preserved in thick slabs of plastic and hung all around the office along with a number of other things he didn't care to think about. The only thing that was worth not freaking out over were the tarantulas, they were safely bundled up in their glass tanks and they weren't all that big. Besides if was very irrational to freak out due to the fact of non-poisonous spiders.

Ryan turned around as the door creaked open and the trout started singing, his fingers twitched, he wanted to kill it. Four people filed in, one the head of the department, bug guy, blonde lady, and detective dude. Not good with names, totally not good with names. "I hope you will forgive us for the time delay." The head of the department said.

Ryan cocked his head and nodded while thinking, apologize to my sore butt you bastard. Indeed Ryan's behind was sore indeed; the people each grabbed chairs and plunked down around the desk. Supposedly taking the friendly tactic. It never works, they looked more like freaky ghosts then friendly companions. They ran through all the basic routine questions, where did you come from? Blah…blah…blah… Ryan lied with the best of them and then suddenly the big question came, "Where were you between the hours of 9 and 10 on the day Tim Michaels died?"

Well aren't they persistent old geezers, "I told you probably at the park busking."

"Security tape says differently."

"What security tape?"

"At the apartment where Michaels was found dead."

"It has a security camera there?"

"Yes, it does. Now answer the question."

"I may have visited my cousin." Ryan supplied reluctantly, well close enough he wasn't exactly lying now.

"You may have?"

Ryan rolled his eyes, "I don't keep track of the days of the week unless it includes Saturday and Sunday."

"Aw, come on you can do better then that."

"Look, if this is not an official Interrogation then spare me the theatrics and tell me when you're going to see me again, because you aren't then I'm taking off." Ryan got up and headed for the door, "I'm late for class."

After a stunned silence, Grissom spoke first, "He's guilty I know it."

"Yeah, well unless we have something solid on him, then he goes free and he works spillover from the day shift cases." Ecklie said, "Whether you like it or not, Grissom. Now who else should we…"

Greg roamed restlessly around the lab and stuffed another cheesy in his mouth, he had been pushed into CSI on duty and was pretty sure he was the only one here besides Grissom and the lab techies and perhaps the coroner. He was suppose to standby for sudden emergencies, yeah right like there was going to be any at all.

He gave the DNA lab a wide berth, he had been mistaken earlier to go in there. Jesus that intern in there was creepy and not in the scary way but in the overly friendly way. He believed her name was Wendy Sims, she probably had gotten anyone within 500 miles into a small friendly dinner.

Greg passed the Trace lab and peeked in, there suspect had somehow curled up in one of those uncomfortable chairs meant to keep lab rats awake and fallen asleep. Greg decided a peek in there wouldn't hurt, as soon as he opened the door, Ryan's head raised, "Mmph?"

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like? I'm studying." Ryan said raising the thick textbook a slight inch.

"Okay let me rephrase, what are you studying?" Greg said coming into the lab and sitting down on the only other spare chair.

"For my anatomy on a regular pig's test tomorrow." Ryan said his eyes out of focus.

"That must be fun."

"No, not really, my professor has some unique way of making things more disgusting then they should be." A slight pause, "Even a description of owl, he has to go into great detail of how they throw of pellets."

Greg tapped the arm of his chair, "A question."

"Go ahead."

"Why are you working Trace? I thought it was your turn in DNA."

"Ask Miss. Bubbly in the next room. She has a thing for blood I'm guessing, begs me not to trade places, gods who could argue with her? I swear if she invites me to one of her crazy lunch parties again then I'm quitting."

"Oh." Greg said. "So…"

Ryan's cell phone rang, "Sorry." He murmured and looked down at the displayed number and cocked his head to the side in puzzlement, "Hello?"

Greg raised an eyebrow as Ryan rushed out the lab white as a sheet.


	13. The Moustache Must Be DESTROYED!

Heyla! I think it's becoming ahabit, good chapter, crappy chapter, good... ANYWHO it's close to Christmas and therefore close to my new computer. YEAH! Not much of a chapter title, but I do not like Nicky's new moustache, makes him look like a old man and makes him look far from the sexy Texan that got me hooked onto CSI...well no not really it was Greg and his teddy bear look really...but still KILL THE MOUSTACHE!

No reviews? Damn you all! Oye! This school block is going overboard as is with Quizilla, mature for one teeney tiny swear in it!

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Secret Whispers:Chapter Thirteen The Moustache Must Be DESTROYED!

"H-how d-did you-you g-g-get this number?" Ryan stuttered into the phone, his knuckles were turning white as he clutched the phone harder.

"Well now." A slick drawl came from the other end, "What kind of a greeting is that? Certainly not fit for even the lowliest of the low, now tell you love me, my dear."

"I-I-I…" Ryan couldn't say it, just couldn't say it after all that sick bastard had done to him, "You pig, where did you get this number?"

The voice tisked, "We need to put back some manners into you, boy."

The dreaded phrase, the phrase that he always used before he did very terrible things. Ryan bit his lip until he could taste the sweet, metallic taste of blood and snapped his phone shut. He glanced around him and saw his reflection on the glass walls, his skin that was already pale to begin with was whiter then it could possibly go. He walked quickly out of the crime lab, threw a goodbye to the desk clerk and took a long walk down the street.

Through the crowds of multicolored people he swam, until he spotted a garbage can in front of a fancy restaurant. He lifted the lid, he started as an arm came up out of it, a croaky voice came out of it, "Jesus, shut the fricking lid, I'm trying to sleep here."

Ryan pressed his free hand to his nose and tried not to breath in too much of the stench, "I'm sorry, sir." Suddenly inspiration struck him, "But I am giving my cell phone away, you want it?"

"Heck, yeah."

Ryan jumped back as the man with filthy brown hair, wild eyes, and torn clothes sat bolt upright. He smiled, "I just have to fix it up for you, mate, jus be a sec."

He quickly sent and deleted all files that happened to be stored in his phone to his laptop at home and handed it over. Ryan leaned in as close to the man as possible, "Whatever you do, don't tell anybody who gave it to you."

The man saluted comically with a rotten banana, "Aye aye, hushaboo."

"That's right, mate, you keep this hushaboo."

The man grinned widely and dived back into the garbage can, Ryan let the lid drop. The lid bounced and clanged twice before settling in place, Ryan rubbed his hands together and started walking.

Andrea nuzzled a warm shoulder blade and sniffed the scent of Nick's sweat and his pine tree scented deodorant. She practically purred as Nick rubbed her elbow, she murmured, "What ever happened to 'Not on the first date?'"

Nick's sexy Texan drawl came from Andrea's left, "It ran away."

Andrea chuckled and settled for a bit and then suddenly slapped him, Nick rubbed his cheeks indignantly, "Hey what was that for?"

"I'm breaking up with you."

"What!"

"Unless you want to rid yourself of that patch of dirt on your lip."

"What dirt?"

"That-that-that thing you call a mustache. Seriously, you look like you're around Grissom's age, no-no wait, older then that."

"You're insulting the mustache? How dare you!" Nick pointed an accusing finger at Andrea.

Andrea grabbed his finger, "Jesus, put it away, you're going to poke someone's eye out, namely mine. But seriously shave the mustache, it's embarrassing, I'm not walking hand in hand with you down the street, it'll be like I'm dating an old guy."

"But everyone has one."

"Not Greg, and his hair is so sexy when it's in his 'Clay Aiken' style."

Nick shook his head, "No use arguing with you."

"That's right, I declare you shave the mustache or face the wrath of walking around with cuts on your handsome face."

"Whatever will I do?" Nick said rolling his eyes.

"Attack of the razor!" Andrea leaped for the bathroom door and tripped on the blankets strewn all over the red carpet. "Damn the blanket, damn the blanket-" The phone rang, "Damn the phone, damn the phone." Andrea started shouting.

Nick looked down upon Andrea, tangled up in blankets, "Hush, I'm answering the phone, so you don't throw it out the window."

"Throw the bloody thing out the window! CHARGE!"

"Note to self." Nick muttered, "Don't give alcohol to Andrea ever again, key words ever again."

Nick chuckled and then grabbed the phone away before Andrea knocked it over, "Stokes."

"Nicky!" Greg said obviously relieved, "I knew I could find you there."

"What? It's my off day."

"Yeah, well postpone it, we just got another DB same MO."

"Oh." Nick said, his smile slipping away.

"Tell Andrea she needs to come to the lab too and to give Wendy a wide berth, although that might be pretty hard to do."

"Uh…" Nick glanced at Andrea who was slipping into a deep sleep, "I think that she's a little indisposed right about now."

"Eh?"

"She's sleeping off the alcohol." Nick said sheepishly.

"Nick!"

"Sorry, I'll be there in about 20 minutes."

"Okay, bye."

Nick sighed and bent down, he placed both of his hands and lifted, Andrea was surprisingly light, her long wavy black hair streamed down from her fair face making him think of a bright full moon on a totally clear night. He set her down and tucked her in the unmade bed and tucked the soft red downy comforter around her neck and gave her a kiss on the forehead and she moved. Suddenly a delicate hand gripped his nose and shook it along with his entire head and she grumbled, "Shave the mustache, shave the mustache."

"Fine! If you will shut up about it." Nick said exasperated.

Andrea rolled over with a big grin on her face and started snoring; seriously she needed to see the doctor about her snoring. She snored like Nick's grandpa who seriously should win the Guinness World Record for loudest snorer ever.

Nick headed towards the bathroom and stared into it, he had never tagged Andrea for the girly girly type before, but now what he saw abolished his notions. The bathroom was a pure pink, some hot pink, some a light rose pink, but it still was pink. No other color could be seen thorough all the pink. Nick squeezed his temples and walked in.

Nick gave his chin a quick rub, after he was done shaving, it was as smooth as a baby's bum. He headed out and stopped for a few seconds to grab a pen and write a note to Andrea saying he might be working a double and that she was needed as soon as she had dealt with her hangover.

The address seemed so familiar but Nick couldn't remember why, until he got there. His heart dropped to somewhere near his bowels when he realized who's house it was. Pressing his lips together he headed towards the primary in charge to be briefed due to the fact that there seemed to be no one he knew there. Detective Vartann looked up morosely from his little black notebook. "Tina Brown." He intoned like it was some sort of boring spelling bee, "Black, 29, mutilated. She can be found on the patio."

Nick stepped carefully over the broken glass and wove his way around the familiar rooms to the back where the patio was, he took all the broken vases and smashed paintings in and bent down next to what use to be Tina. Death did her no justice, her face was smashed in like Nicholas the 2 the last czar of Russia. A hank of curly brown hair laid about 5 feet away from the body. Nick sighed and felt his head drop; he looked up as a commotion sounded at the door…


	14. Blazing Inferno

Before I forget HAPPY CHRISTMAS! although I'm not english I'll say happy instead of merry cause it pisses people off. And have a great new year.

Now that that is out of the way, sorry it took so long, but I was having fun torturing people. Mwhahaha.

Thanks of the reviews:

**Simply Crisis: **Well thankyou, I'malso doing thiswriting stuff from school, thank god for lunch breaks. I got another person inthe 'shave the mustache group' yeah! But Nick(George) already shavedit, so I'm happy.

Please review soon and I'll be getting my new computer on Boxing Day so mwhahaha!

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Fourteen Blazing Inferno

Nick stepped carefully over the broken glass and wove his way around the familiar rooms to the back where the patio was, he took all the broken vases and smashed paintings in and bent down next to what use to be Tina. Death did her no justice, her face was smashed in like Nicholas the 2 the last czar of Russia. A hank of curly brown hair laid about 5 feet away from the body. Nick sighed and felt his head drop; he looked up as a commotion sounded at the door…

He recognized Warrick's voice, loudly demanding to know what was going on, he heard a softer murmur of Greg's voice, trying unsuccessfully to calm Rick down. "What is going on!" Warrick practically screamed.

Nick got up and walked mindful of the glass shards to the door, "Nick." Warrick said relieved, "Why is there crime scene tape all around the house and-and uniforms stationed here? Is this some kind of joke?"

"No Warrick. I think you should sit down before you hear this."

"No, I will not sit down, just-just tell me what this is."

"Warrick I'm sorry to inform you that your wife, Tina Brown, has been murdered."

"No-no." Warrick cried after a moment of silence before crumbling into Nick and Greg's arms, "This can't be true, you're lying. All of you are lying." He tore himself from their grasps and bolted down the street.

"I'll go." Said Nick quietly, "You hurry up and process the crime scene and call somebody, call Catherine."

"Okay." Greg said glancing forebodingly towards the smashed open door.

"Be careful of the glass shards, you don't want to cut yourself up." Nick said over his shoulder.  
"Yeah." Greg reluctantly dragged his feet towards the open doorway.

Nick got into his Tahoe and drove slowly down the street, searching every dark nook and cranny just in case Warrick hadn't gone and broken down in one. Nick found him an hour later, clutching drunkenly at the neck of a bottle of half empty Vodka and tears leaking down his face. Nick got out and knelt down beside Warrick, "I think that's enough, don't you?"

Warrick grabbed Nick's shirt, "She's dead." And he started sobbing.

Nick patted his back awkwardly, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Nick helped him into the passenger side of his Tahoe and drove him down to the lab to hopefully get the grieving Warrick to a much more sober state.

Greg winced as he stepped on another couple shards of glass and hoped to god that he would be done clearing the pathway to Tina in a couple of hours. Greg swore he was seeing double where little itty-bitty were not suppose to be there. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and shook his head trying to clear his head. It did not help one bit, Greg started as somebody stepped on a patch of glass he had missed, his hand strayed down to the gun he had been issued when he had taken and passed the firearms test just hours before.

"Sorry." Said Sara with a sad smile, "I didn't know you hadn't cleared this path yet."

"Oh." Greg said obviously relieved for the extra help with the crime scene, "It should be cleared, but I'm kind of seeing double here so I'm not sure if I processed everything…"

"That's okay, I have better vision anyways." Sara said and kneeled, instantly taking out her camera and snapping shots.

Greg gazed at the battered body of what use to be Warrick's wife and sighed, "Tina was nice."

Sara looked over, "Yeah."

They finished processing the scene in silence.

Catherine rushed to the entrance of the crime lab; she had just received a call from Greg detailing the bad news. She wanted to be there to comfort Warrick, chase all his tremors away with a simple warm hug. But she had to be patient; she didn't think the ghost of Tina would like her husband necking with another woman so soon after her death and Catherine was sure Warrick wouldn't appreciate it either.

She blinked as the bright sunlight struck her eyes and she saw Nick half carrying half dragging a sobbing Warrick to the door. Catherine rushed over and took a half of Warrick's weight; she made soothing sounds to Warrick. She and Nick helped him into a comfortable chair in the conference room, where Warrick curled up and cried for all he was worth. Catherine got up and poured a cup of lukewarm water for Warrick, she considered tranquilizing it, but that was a bit under the law so she slipped sleeping pills in it instead.

Catherine wiggled her eyebrows at Nick and Nick understood perfectly what she intended to do, it was either that or putting a guard on him all day and everybody was going to be too god damn busy with trying to catch the Death Artist then keeping an eye on him. Nick forced Warrick's mouth open as Catherine poured it down his throat, they both stood by and watched as Warrick's green eyes flickered once, twice, then closed. Nick immediately left and Catherine ran her hand through the tangled mess that Warrick called hair and tucked him in. She then hurried out to catch the Death Artist and she hoped whoever he was he would suffer a horrible death.

Greg stared at the bloody mess upon Tina's back, "What the heck is that?"

Sara came over and stared at the girl inscribed there, "I think it's like that one movie um…. what was it? Girl With a Pearl Earring, I think. It was such a beautiful movie."

"Okay…" Greg turned away, "Just don't drift off into la la land okay?"

"Am not."

"You so are."

"Whatever. Hey where the heck is David? He should've been here a couple of hours ago." Sara asked glancing at the ruined door.

"Probably held up." Greg mumbled snapping a picture and then picking up the stray hank of hair, he gave it a sniff, "Wow, smells like…like candle wax or something. I'll send it to Hodges when we get back to the lab. Maybe he'll be able to track it down to a certain brand."

Sara nodded vaguely and printed the windows and the broken door, she held up what seemed to be a piece of doorframe, "Wow." She ran a hand in a deep gouge in it, "This must've been made by somebody with something sharp and a lot of strength."

"Really? Thanks for pointing out the obvious, Sara." Greg said sarcastically.

"Yeah well it's our job to point out the obvious if you don't know." Sara shot back.

"Sorry." Greg said, "Just having a stressful time here."

"Well we all need to buck up, can't fail the victims now can we?" Sara asked half to herself and half to Greg.

"Yeah."

A small explosion ripped through the air and a burst of hot gas blew into their faces. They were both knocked backwards into pieces of furniture; they acquired a new set of bruises and scratches. Sara stared in the direction of the kitchen where the blast had come from and she moved, "Grab everything and get the hell out of here, fire!"

Greg stayed still for a minute in shock and grabbed his kit and pieces of evidence that had already been bagged. Sara grabbed Tina around the bloody waist and preceded to drag her out the door, the fire had now become a raging inferno. It steadily engulfed the roof, everything it ate turned a black, and the smell reminded Greg of the one time he went camping and a tree caught fire. The air was turning grey and smoky and he could hardly breath, he thought he heard Sara shouting at him, but he wasn't really sure. He shook his head and grabbed the camera, but his legs didn't seem to be working, he struggled for a few minutes and the roof came down in a fiery blaze of glory. Greg stumbled back from the burning wood, his vision swam, and he collapsed his legs unable to support him.

Fresh, clean air flowed into his raw lungs; he slowly opened his eyes, which seemed to be glued shut. At first everything was blurred, but gradually his vision cleared. He recognized the sterile white walls and the annoyingly loud beep of a heart monitor; he was in a hospital room. He smelled antiseptic and other not so pleasant smells, his nose itched and his breathing hitched. Greg couldn't be sure but he was sure he tasted a bit of blood down in his throat where the raw place was.

Greg heard a shuffling sound, he slowly sat up. All his muscles were aching and screaming at him. His stomach rolled twice before settling down where it was suppose to be. A bright pair of eyes peeked up from a pile of blankets, "Greg!" Sara said excitedly, "You're awake."

"Sara." His voice sounded strangled, dry. It hurt to talk, really it did.

"Wait, don't talk." She hurried from his line of sight and returned a moment later clutching a paper cup.

She poured the cool liquid down his throat and Greg closed his raw eyes in bliss, "So." His throat was better now but his voice was still scratchy "Did I save anything?"

Sara decked him, "You almost roast to death and all you think about is the evidence!"

"Well, I'm that way, so did I?"

"Yes, you did. You idiot." Sara said with a watery smile.

"Oh no, don't you dare go all weeping baby on me." Greg said mightily alarmed.

Sara threw herself on his chest and wept slightly, "Is this some weird declaration of love?" Greg wondered out loud.

"No." Sara sniffed and hugged him, "Well maybe. Since you almost burned to death in that house."

"Yeah, I'm wondering what caused it?" Greg asked.

Sara's eyes hardened, "The killer is trying to claim more lives."


	15. Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Heyla, as you can tell I finally got my new computer and my internet. And to console you for the long wait and abscenses in between I wrote two chappies for ya all. Yeah! Anyways I have strayed so far from my original plot line that I have no clue, what's going on and that's kinda bad. Anyways I still hope these are to your liking.

Plz review.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Fifteen Guilty Until Proven Innocent

Grissom sat down and slapped his files onto the table, effectively startling everybody from their dismal state of mind. He looked at his team; Greg was in the hospital with multiply burns, Warrick was sleeping off the pills Catherine had given him a few hours ago, Nick was staring deeply into his cup of coffee, Sara's eyes were closed, and Catherine was rubbing her eyes tiredly. Grissom looked down at the table and then looked up, he could feel the effects of too much caffiene working on him. "Okay team, we need to put together a profile on this serial killer." Grissom sounded defeated.

"Well." Catherine intertwined her fingers, "He or she has a routine, the killings first started on the third of march at a fancy apartment building. Three days later he struck at a public park just a few miles away from the first murder site here." she said unrolling a map and marking the places in, "The third murder took place in the middle class district, seven days after the second. Notice anything?"

"They're all magic numbers?" Nick asked shrugging.

"Bingo." Catherine said, "So he either believes in good thing happens when you believe in magic or it's completely coincidential."

"Yeah." Sara said, "Look at this." she pointed to the X's on the map, "They make a perfect triangle."

"Mhmm." Grissom said frowning over the map, "But what about the carving's on the victims backs?"

Catherine inhaled sharply, "I'm thinking he has some connection to old art, especially the well known ones like the Mona Lisa. An art fanatic? Maybe. But if he's so into art why doesn't he do his own pieces? Why does he copy other people's work? Impulsion to bow down to the greater artists? Or does he do it to screw us over?"

"Probably to screw us over." Nick said leaning back, "But he would still have to be a good copy artist and have a good stomach for murder. I mean would any normal person bear spending minutes with a body, carving it perfectly like this or that? Let alone hours? Jesus I wouldn't be able to stand the smell of blood or watch it..." Nick gave a shiver.

"So maybe he's done it before." Sara said, "Practiced on animals, dead animals. Or he could just be one of those people who can't smell properly."

"Doubt it." Grissom said, "Only a very small percentage of people would fit the killer's description who has no nose that can smell properly."

"Since when did he have a description?" Catherine asked.

"Well, number one he has to be pretty strong. To hack somebody's head off in one stroke, it takes a lot of power."

"Unless you have the right tool then just a little flick of the wrist could do the job." Sara said, "Like, oh I don't know some sort of machine or a katana."

"Katana?" Nick asked.

"You know. Japanese swords made stronger by the sword makers folding the steel many times and just the right amount of weight behind the sword could cut through a tree. Besides there were no hesitation marks so he definitely used something sharp or he is a muscle man."

"That did not make sense." Nick said.

"You're just tired."

"We all are." said Andrea from the doorway, "I'm not like interrupting or anything am I?"

"Oh no. Carry on." Grissom said.

"Well since Ryan is such a lazy ass I took the liberty to take this down here for you. The traces you found in that lock of hair is wax."

"Wax? What kind?"

Andrea smiled brightly, "Ryan's working on it, he'll be finished within oh I don't know a couple of hours."

"Why?" Grissom asked curiously.

"You'll just have to wait and find out." Andrea skipped away singing joyfully.

Grissom furrowed his eyebrows and shook his head, "Anyways back to my description; he's either got a lot of muscle or he's very practiced with some sort of sharp instrument, the art connection especially the traditional and well known pieces, the belief in magic or a strong attachment to the belief of luck, a strong stomach as Nick said, a well organized plan of who to kill and when, probably does surveillance of the victim's before hand to learn the person's every move, and he use to be meticulous of leaving nothing behind for us to follow. But now he's slipping. A sign of arrogance? I think so. However his MO is changing, or was it just an accident that the gas main blew up?"

"You have great powers of deduction, what's your secret Obi Wan Kanobi?" Nick asked.

"My brain." Grissom answered.

Nick didn't know what to feel; like an idiot or to feel insulted. "What the hell are you doing here then? Why don't you be one of those fancy psychologists?"

"Well I feel very naseous after spending more then a few minutes with insane people, like I'm doing now." Grissom said.

"Okay. I think we need a white board." said Catherine and stood up to get it.

Hours later Sara walked into the Trace lab, the first thing Ryan said to her was, "They really need a database for wax."

"Why?" Sara asked.

"Why? Why!" Ryan said just a bit to hysterically, "I'll tell you why. All the wax products have only one, ONE! molecule difference. You know how tiny one molecule is?"

"I'm pretty sure I do." Sara said.

"I want to strangle something." Ryan said making the gesture in the air.

"I think you need to hold on that. So what have you got?"

Ryan let out a disgruntled sigh, "After hours of tedious and pointless work. I pinpointed the wax's donor. This." he held up a round container, "Yes, it is bikini wax."

"So we're most likely looking for a she." Sara said.

"Or somebody heavily into kink." Ryan said tossing the container down in disgust, "If you're looking for a she then that'll probably cut down about half the population of Las Vegas. Then you have to consider foreign models, people with pools, people on holidays. Blah, blah, blah."

"The victims most likely knew their killer. Whether it was intimate or from a far."

"That's still a lot of people." Ryan said stripping off his sticky gloves and throwing them in the garbage, "And this time you can't prove it's me."

"What do you mean?" Sara asked puzzled.

"Me. Main suspect. Me in the lab slaving away all afternoon, night, and most of the morning." Ryan glanced at his watch, "Well hell I missed med school again."

"You looking to be a doctor?" Sara asked.

"Nope, my mother's dieing wish." he sighed, "But at this rate I'd probably become a doctor when I'm old and crippled."

"Oh don't say that." Sara said and couldn't help but wondering if this was a coincidence.

"If I miss too many classes then I'm out." Ryan said looking through a case file from the day shift. "Oh this is a good one."

"What?"

"Guy jumps out of the window and they're wondering if he had too much Viagra." Ryan snorted, "Poor dude, probably did it out in sexual frustration. This should be in Tox not here."

Sara smiled, "Want me to take it?"

"I owe you." said Ryan bowing low, "Now I'm gonna hightail it out of here and see if I can be on time for my french class for once. By the way Hodges should have showed up by now, but he's late."

"Weird." Sara said.

"Don't need to tell me. He's got this thing for trying to impress his superiors, that means he's either stuck in traffic or home with the flu that's going around. See ya later." Ryan said waltzing out of the lab.

"Hmm" Sara said to herself and went back to the conference room.

Minutes later Nick and Sara were arguing and Nick was sarcastically denying everything, "A coincidence? Sara he did it."

"How could he have done it? The logs don't have him checking out of the lab at any time near the murder."

"Anytime near? Sara the temperature has an affect on the body temp, she could've been dead for hours and the temperature would say different. Or he could've just slipped out from under the desk people's noses."

"So you're saying Robbins findings are wrong? Or that the red head is blind?" Sara asked heatedly.

"I'm starting to think you have a thing for him."

"So? He didn't do it." Sara said, "And before you say my feelings are on the way, they're not. He didn't do it and we all know it. We just want a scape goat so the feds won't come down on us."

"Sara you are so short sighted. He knew these people. Michaels and him had a fight days before the murder. He worked for Angelina at her...club. Tina was his doctor ever since he's been in Vegas. He's got a degree in art. Medical training."

"I'm short sighted? You should listen to yourself. You've already got your mind set on the fact that he's guilty. But the evidence says he's not." Sara said.

"Now I know that you've got something for him. What evidence? The bikini wax could just be a cover up like the fire. He wanted to kill you and Greg and nearly accomplished it." Nick retorted.

"Why? What's his motive?"

"How am I suppose to know? He's a psycopath and you just walked into his trap."

"Not good enough Nick and you know it. You're only going after him because Warner's son is untouchable without damage to this department and Ryan has a mysterious past."

"Ohh you're making this sound like some kind of mystery story." Nick said.

"It is. Now if you don't mind I'm going to visit Greg. At least he's better company, even if he's unconsious." Sara grabbed her cup of water and left.

Nick made a helpless gesture, "Sara...Sara I-I'm sorry."

But Sara was already too far to hear Nick's cry of despair. Outside she glanced at the heavily rain laden sky and knew it was gonna start raining in a few minutes, she crossed her arms and hugged her coat close to her body. A shadow flashed in the corner, Sara froze. Then chided herself as a black cat appeared from behind the sign claiming that this was the crime lab and should uncleared people pass they would be arrested and indicted and possibly prosecuted. Sara smiled, they were all too paranoid for their own good. Sara frowned as she stepped in front of the car to what she thought was Hodges car, she leaned in close to see through the tinted glass. She uttered a short scream as a open hand slammed into the window. Grissom and Catherine all rushed out from the building, Catherine grabbed Sara's shoulders, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Sara answered out of breath.

Grissom opened the car door and Hodges spilled from the driver's seat, unconsious. He was bound up with a multi coloured scarf and gagged. Grissom checked his pulse, "He's okay, but he's breathed in chloroform. He'll be awake in a few hours."

"I wonder who did it." Sara said.

"We won't know till he wakes up, will we?" Catherine said.


	16. Confessions of the Death Artist

Secret Whispers: Chapter Sixteen Confessions of the Death Artist

Greg forced his gluey eyes open and smiled tiredly at the person who was standing there, "Hey." he cleared his throat twice before attempting to speak again, "Andrea how nice of you to visit me."

Andrea flicked her long black glossy curls over her shoulder and sat down next to the bed, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no prob." Greg broke off to cough dryly, "Occupational hazard."

Andrea smiled and ducked her head, "You seem to attract bad luck where ever you go." at Greg's questioning look she answered, "I heard about the lab explosion. Fire and smoke seems to like you very much."

"Yeah well I am a likable guy you know." Greg said and attempted to smile and winced as his dry lips split.

Andrea frowned and grabbed some water and a tissue, "Here." she pressed the tissue to his lips and slowly dribbled the liquid down his throat.

"Thanks. I needed that. Would've got it myself hours ago, but these painkillers are dulling my senses and reaction time. Can't even move my arms to call the nurse down here." Greg said his lids fluttering slightly, "Makes me awfully drowsy too."

"Yeah well that's the doctor's reasoning you know. Keep the patient on morphine so he doesn't do any damage." Andrea said.

"Spoken like a true cynical doctor. You ever consider becoming one?"

"Did, spent the better part of my life becoming a doctor only to fail in the final qualifications exam." Andrea sighed.

"Oh what happened?"

Andrea sighed and looked off to one side, "This girl came in, complained about stomach pain. Thought it was just a girl's you know menstrual cycle, turns out it was an ulcer. Two in fact. One perferated before we had the chance to treat it and it spilt the stomach contents into the body. Damaging the livers and kidneys badly. You know if I hadn't made the wrong diagnosis, that girl would've lived and her parents wouldn't be grieving. The only thing that the hospital cared about was the lawsuit against them. That's why I failed."

Greg placed a hand on Andrea's, "The hospital are full of sadistic bastards arn't they?"

Andrea smiled, "Still it was my fault."

"Doctors are bound to kill at least one patient in their whole career, yours just came a little bit early."

She tilted her head to one side, "You want to know the real reason why I'm here?"

"Why? You want to get laid by a guy that can hardly move?" Greg asked smiling a little.

Chuckling she gave Greg a pat on the shoulder, "Close but no cigar. The real reason is that I'm here to confess."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Hold your horses there mate, you need a priest or something and I am definitely not one." Greg said.

"Well I'm not that religious and churches scare me, so you're the next best thing." Andrea said gripping her purse, "Please don't interrupt me. If I stop, I won't be able to go on telling you my sins and I need to repent so badly." Andrea sobbed as tears ruined her mascara.

"Andrea I promise I won't interrupt you, just cleanse your system if you want to. Come on." Greg gave her a weak one arm hug.

"Greg, I have come to confess to the murders of Tim, Angelina, and Tina of Las Vegas."

Gregs eyes widened to the size of dinner plates, Andrea held up her hand, "Don't interrupt. My motive? Revenge, anger, and jealousy. Tim lives in the same building as I do, he came onto me one night. Slapped him away and said I was way to old for him, plus he tried beating up my little brother. Well half-brother would be more accurate, next day I find my parakeet in my mail box. It was decapitated and a note was stuck onto it's butt, it said, 'Those who off me pay the price.' Well let's just say he got what was coming for him.

"Angelina was a friend of mine. She was deep in shit, her ex lover a poster girl for some famous magazine, was suing her for abuse. She asked to borrow ten grand, I gave it to her. This was like a year ago, she kept asking for more and more. Later I found out she was not paying off her debts but using it to buy heroin for her habit. I confronted her and she was high, started pushing me around so I took her scarf and tackled her, made her go to sleep with that nifty stuff, chloroform.

"Tina, Tina was my doctor. Was always nice to me had a nice husband. But I could see what her plans really were, don't you see, she was destroying Catherine. Took Warrick just to spite her, Catherine in her cool collective manner didn't do anything about it. Only stood by and watched. I walked into the clinic one day and jealousy just came over me, she had everything I wanted. Her job, a good faithful husband, and a nice home a step up from the sleazy apartments I had to live in all my life.

"Greg, I know what you're thinking. I had no right to take these people lives and the motives I produced are stupid and idiotic. But it was like I wasn't even doing it, like I was just watching TV you know, a bystander. I couldn't control it and it was like some other person took over my body and made me do those things. But I did it plain as day and I'm guilty. Now I have one more thing I must do." she took out a needle from her purse filled with a clear liquid, "This might kill you but pray these mediocre doctors and nurses are quick on their feet."

Greg's mind was in shock, how could such a lovely young lady he had known for a little over a year now be the serial killer everyone was talking about. He was in denial, she couldn't have done it. Yet his fogged filled mind saw Andrea reach for the IV tube and inject it with a lethal dose of something. The last words he uttered before he saw darkness was, "You couldn't have."

Andrea fluttered her eyelashes and placed a kiss upon Greg's forehead, "I'm sorry Greg but I did. Now goodbye, forever unless we meet in hell or heaven."

Greg immediately went into cardiac arrest, his breathing became noisy and laboured and the monitor went wild. The nurses and a doctor rushed in and pushed her out of the room, Andrea couldn't help but roll his eyes and smile, "Idiots."

Ryan sighed as he got out of his parked car, he was about a block away from the university, he couldn't get a better parking space then that. Take what you could before it disappeared and besides Ryan thought he needed more exercise. It had started to rain, he tucked his hands into his pockets and headed for the university. It always seemed like the wind had a vendetta against him, whether it be sleet, snow, or rain it would blow in his direction until his nose went numb. He would've walked backwards but then he'd probably bump into something, fall, and break his leg or arm. He glanced up as he passed a snazzy looking bar with colorful lights and sounds, he wouldn't have seen anything like it back home in that pitiful excuse of a town that he and an old friend had dubbed HELL. Christ if anybody's parents had caught you in one, they'd probably tattle on you and then you get your ass kicked around the house verbally and physically.

Vegas was one of the beautifullest cities Ryan had ever seen, from afar and up close and personal. All you had to do was ignore the people who tried to pick your pockets and the smells of the gutter where feces, urine, and only god knows what was coming out of it. The lights were awesome, it lite up the whole street at night and whenever it was dark like now, but it just made the alleys look more darker and scarier. You never knew who or what might be lurking in the shadows. Ryan smiled to himself, his face numb and pale from the cold rain which plastered his black hair to his scalp, he read too many horror stories. The bad guys always jump out from dark corners to slit your throat or take you prisoner. He really needed to get a life.

He flexed his fingers in his pocket and then checked his watch, couple more minutes till french and he thought he could make it if he didn't get run over or something. He glanced upwards as the smell of sizzling hot dogs wafted through the wet air and closed his eyes. It smelled so good, maybe he'd get one for himself. Suddenly a large and hard hand slammed onto his face, effectively pushing him into something solid and he was pretty sure it was no wall but a slab of muscle. Another arm circled around his slim waist effectively pinning one of his arms, the other he beat the attacker with. He felt a gust of hot air near his ear and liquor and smoke assualted his nose, "Told ya I'd find ya. Now no squirming or screaming, we wouldn't want you to get hurt now would we."

Ryan was terrified, thoughts kept running through his head, 'How had he found him so quickly? What was he going to do? What was the punishment? Whould it hurt?' At the last one he couldn't help but grimace. Of course it would hurt.

He felt something poking into his ribcage, the voice whispered, "Now keep walking or I'll have to shock you."

Ryan did as he was told, he wasn't thinking clearly, fear was driving his mind and body now. They walked for about five minutes until they came to a dark blue sedan, the arm around his waist left for a second, but the arm around his neck tightened, slowly squeezing off his oxygen. Not enough to kill him, but enough to make him dizzy, weak, and unable to fight his assailant. The man took out his car keys and flicked off the car alarm, then opened the door. Next thing Ryan knew he was seeing stars.

Hodges slowly came around and was shocked to find most of the CSI team looming over him like some overhanging cliffs, "Are you trying to give poor old me a heart attack?"

Grissom stepped up, why did it seem like they were all glaring at him? "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" Hodges asked puzzled.

"We found you bound, gagged, and unconsious in the front seat of your car."

"Oh that. I must say Andrea is a rough one."

"What?" Nick asked his interest perking up.

"Oh right before I got out of the car, she came bounding out of the building and flagged me down. Then she jumped me and put something on my mouth and nose. After that it kinda got hazy but I'm pretty sure she said, 'I did it. I need to confess to the only surviving angel.' Now don't ask me what she meant, cause I don't know."

Grissom frowned and he thought for a second before making a mad dash towards the door. The rest of the CSI's ended up looking at each other, they didn't get it but they followed their boss out of the doors just in case he needed some major backup. Hodges was left muttering to himself, nobody ever told him anything. "Grissom." Catherine yelled, "What's going on?"

Grissom looked up, "Get in the car, we need to save Greg. I'll explain it to you on the way there."


	17. Ready To Deal?

Sorry peeps that this took so long, I kinda got writer's block in the middle of writting it. Anywho I must say if you don't know what I'm talking about in this chapter then you'd be lost but I'll do my best to explain.

Ryan and Andrea are half siblings, their step father used to be a wealthy man who after a fatal incident with their littlest half sister lost all his money and turned to drink. Their mother ditched the whole family after she married this man and having her third child, she went back to whoring and drugging up. I must warn you though this story hints towards mature themes like sexual abuse and incest anybody who can not stomach this, better stop reading now.

Plz review.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Seventeen Ready To Deal?

Catherine gripped the dashboard until her knuckles turned a stark white as Grissom ran through yet another red light and nearly clipped the edge of a large ford truck, the driver swore obscenely at them. She glanced behind her, Sara looked like she had left her stomach somewhere back at the lab and Nick was clinging to the seat as if there was no tomorrow. At this point in time Catherine was starting to agree with Nick on this one, unless by some miracle they didn't careen into some large semi. She hissed as Grissom cut across the left lane right in front of a screeching van, "Grissom." Catherine said quite breathlessly, "Slow down."

"We have to prevent Andrea from-" Grissom's phone rang.

He took a hand from the steering wheel to answer his phone, but Catherine was quicker and grabbed the phone before he did, "Oh no you don't, keep your eyes on the road. I don't want to die just yet."

Grissom let out a disgruntled sigh, but kept his eyes on the road that was flying past. Catherine flipped the cover to the phone open, "Hello?"

A cool and distant voice answered, "Can I speak to Mr. Grissom please?"

"He's currently indisposed, but I can take your message." Catherine said.

"Okay..." whoever was on the other side clearly thought that she was some kind of whore, "Can you tell Mr. Grissom that his son is currently in a critical condition due to the fact that someone administered a near lethal dose of drugs into his system?"

"What kind of drugs?" Catherine asked gripping the cell hard.

Grissom looked over concerned, but at Catherine's punch he diverted his attention back to the road. The cool voice on the other side, lowered several degrees, "I'm sorry but I can not give out such confedential information."

Catherine restrained herself from calling the other person, some inappropriate names, "Please I'm Mr. Grissoms fiancee, I have the right to know if my soon to be step son is okay."

She scowled as Grissom's lips twitched alarmingly close to a smirk as Nick and Sara giggled in the back like little school children, "In that case, I guess it's okay to tell you." Catherine immediatly pegged the cool distant voice as an inexprienced nurse. "Mr. Sanders was administered a dosage of a medicine that caused him to have a serious allergic reaction. He is now under intensive observation as of now."

"Where can we find G-Mr. Sanders?"

"Second floor, ICU, room 254."

"Thank you." Catherine lowered the cell and snapped it closed, "We're too late, Andrea already had a round with him."

"Damn." Grissom said and hit the wheel, causing an alarmingly loud noise.

He reached for the radio to call dispatch, Catherine slapped his hand away and called it in herself. Minutes later they came to a screeching stop in front of the hospital, they hurriedly jumped out and ran across the green lawn to the hospital. Inside was a bustle of white walls and lights, doctors and nurses were scurrying around like ants, Catherine led the way to Greg's room. They were stopped at the nurses station by one bored looking scare crow, she was skinny with a hawk like nose that was too big for her face and straggly straw coloured hair strayed from her bun, "I'm sorry miss." it was said in the tone of a pompous asshole, "But I can't let you in."

"Look I'm Greg Sanders step mom, can't you just let me go see my son?" Catherine asked pleadingly.

"I'm sorry miss, but he's in a critical condition right now. We are not allowing anybody but the doctors and nurses to see him right now." the nurse now had a firm grip upon Catherine's arm.

"Well can we at least sit around till he's in a better condition?" Catherine asked coldly.

The nurse looked uncertain, but finally nodded, "But don't go in, unless the doctors say it's okay."

"Thank you." Catherine said with gritted teeth.

They all settled down in front of a huge window with the blinds pulled down, "Do you think he'll be okay?" Sara asked.

"Yeah, don't worry. Greg's a fighter, he'll get through this okay." Catherine said laying a hand on Sara's shoulders.

Grissom and Nick contemplated in silence, finally Nick broke the silence, "How could Andrea have done such harmful things to the victims?"

Grissom looked over, "You'd be surprised what people do to one another. Andrea's just another a psychopath, but now that her triangle's complete, what will she do? Kill more people in Las Vegas? Move to another bigger city and continue her pattern there? Will she stop? Or is she the one to kill until she herself is dead or caught?"

Nick looked at his hands, the hands that had once caressed Andrea gently and lovingly, "That's a scary thought."

"And one you should keep in mind."

Andrea smiled as she walked down the street, her hair was now a shade of dirty blonde lightly streaked with pink. She had to wince at that, she hated pink, but this was part of her disguise and she would keep it. She had put in blue tinted contacts and she was dressed in a tight pink dress that stopped mere inches from her crotch. On her feet were a pair of fluffy pink boots that kinda looked like smushed pink poodles. Andrea kept on getting whistled at, she didn't know what had posessed her to take on this disguise, but the harm was already done and the police had probably confiscated her assets by now. A police siren sounded and Andrea looked up, her curls bounced on her back. It was nothing, just a black and white responding to another call from dispatch. She couldn't believe how easy it was to fool the police, a change in her dresscode, different hair and different eyes and they didn't take another look at her, unless it was at her breasts. She had refrained from slapping the uniform around, that would have seemed kind of suspicious.

Her new phone gave off a Britney Spears ring tone, she then and there decided to change as soon as possible. Andrea wondered who on earth had her new number, probably the phone company or something. "Hello?" she put on a falsely preppy voice.

"My dear girl, I have found you."

The smile that had been on her face, slid into a horrified grimace. "What do you want father?" she spat out father as if it was a disgusting swear word and it was. To her and her siblings, maybe.

"Look what I found."

On the other side the cruel man, gave a yank on Ryan's hair. Ryan was unable to stop a whimper from escaping out of his split lips. Andrea stopped in horror, "You wouldn't."

The man gave a snarking laugh, "Did and he's just waiting for more. Arn't you love?" he asked Ryan as he roughly pulled at his hair.

Andrea couldn't help but wince at the sound, "What do you want?" her older sister instincts kicked in.

"Well for starters, how about a new identity? I know you and him are very good at that."

"Where do I meet you?"

"In one hour, by that big strip club. I'm sure you know which one." the line went dead.

Andrea nearly screamed with frustration, she had never been to that part of the city in her whole life, or more likely the last 7 or 8 years she had been in Vegas. What was more frustrating was the fact, she didn't have her equipment with her. Oh well she could improvise, all she needed was just a little time and a change in clothing. She went into the first designer store she saw and paid everything with a credit card under some poor drunkard's name, she also got the tools she thought was necessary for a very crappily made ID card. Her step father wouldn't notice for he himself was a alcholic and an idiot, all she cared about was getting Ryan out of that bastard's hands.

She drove a car she had just lifted slowly down the street filled with with hookers and huge strip clubs, she wasn't exactly sure what she was looking for, but she had a feeling she would know it when she saw it. Andrea found what she was looking for, eight minutes later a large man was leaning against a dark car (Andrea couldn't tell cars apart if her life depended upon it) and a hat was pulled down low over his shortly cropped dark hair. She pulled up next to the man and looked him over, years of drinking hadn't changed his face, he still had his roughly handsome face, set with dark sharp eyes, a long nose, and stubble. He unlike any of the drunkard's she knew hadn't gone to seed, he was still muscular. It indicated he either worked out or he injected himself with steroids or that he had plastic surgery every now and then. Andrea knew it was probably from working out a lot, she knew that this man standing before her had too much pride for a small penis and fake muscles.

He looked up, his eyes piercing her, he smiled. Andrea saw that his teeth weren't as well kept, they were stained yellow and some were even rotting. She shuddered, she couldn't imagine what his breath would smell like. "Come here and embrace your old man."

"Where's Ryan?" Andrea asked stiffly.

"Oh don't worry, he's in there."

He nodded to the back of the car, she could see a huge thick blanket thrown over the front and back seats, completely obscuring her view of anything. Andrea tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, "How can I be sure he's in there?"

"Come on, trust your old man can't you."

"No."

He sighed and shook his head at her like she was a naughty child and he reached up to touch a lock of hair that hung out from the open window. "You dyed your hair." he murmured softly, "It's pretty."

Andrea tried not to recoil from his stained fingers, but lost the fight and moved farther into the depths of the car. The man who was once her step father took back his hands and seemed genuinely hurt. She didn't fall for it, she had learned long ago how sneaky that bastard could be. "So, on to business."

"Ah that's my girl. Always diving straight to the heart of things."

"What do you want?"

"Why don't you come over here so we can talk?"

"I'm tired of your sick games, I'll give you your new ID if and only when I see my brother is well and alive and is in my car."

"Your car?" he scoffed, "You probably stole it."

"No, it just changed owner posession." Andrea sniffed as if she was too far above stealing a car.

He chuckled, showing off his rotten teeth. Andrea waited with baited breath and was almost certain he wouldn't show her Ryan until she gave him what he wanted. But to her surprise, he reached behind him to open the door. She expelled her breath and looked closely at what little she could see of Ryan, all she saw was his silky black hair which was now matted with blood and tangled into knots. Andrea could see that the son of a bitch had made Ryan pay for that incident that seemed so long ago. She could distinctively hear Ryan's ragged breaths and an odd whistling sound that probably indicated that his nose had been broken. "So." the man leered, "Ready to deal?"


	18. I Promise

Hey all, I'm sorry but tis kinda short and there may not be much coming after this until after January cause I got midterms and one PAT to write. I know yuck and I have a piano exam to prepare for too. Aw, I know you're all sad but meh can't be helped and I left u with a big cliffhanger too, ain't I just nice.

**Simply Crisis: **Your wish has come true.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Eighteen I Promise

Andrea stroked the thin knife she had tucked into her boot and waited, better to be on the defensive then the offensive, you never knew how he might twist your words. The man leered back at her as Andrea stared at the closed door, she finally nodded. The man smiled his rotten smile before reopening the car door, he reached in and grabbed Ryan's hair and arm before he yanked him out of the car and onto the road. Andrea winced sympathetically at the sight of her little brother lying broken before her, bruises and scratched marred his pretty face and his nose was broken. All the classic of signs of sexual assualt was there right down to the redressage of clothing. She opened the door to her car and came within inches of putting a big long scratch on the side of the man's dark car, she slowly got out.

The man studied her, his name was Drew Reynolds, a long time ago he used to own his own firm and had drowned in luxury and women. His drinking problem had started right after the love of his life had walked out of his life forever. The woman had had exotic brown eyes that had held the secrets of the universe, her skin shone a light golden glow, her hair had been long and soft and had smelled of flowers. In return for his hospitality, she had left him with 3 children, that may or may not have been his. Drew's alcholic problems had started, he didn't blame himself, he blamed everyone else around him. He started losing respect and authority, people left his firm to work for more saner people, and he had been thrown out on his butt once for showing up to court drunk as hell.

To Drew this one daughter had seemed a lot like her mother, hell they all reminded him of their mother, but this one was closest, even if her face were more hawklike. He walked up to her and carefully sidestepped his step son, he was a pretty one but he didn't hold a candle to either of his step daughters. He opened up his arms intending to hug his daughter, the one who reminded him so much of his ex wife. But then he felt something stab his abdomen, like lightning. He looked down, shocked to see a small thin blade sticking out of his stomach and the hand who grasped it was her daughter's. He stared disbelievingly into her eyes, while she smirked and said, "Don't worry, I didn't hit anything major." she pulled the blade back out, "But maybe you should hope you don't bleed out here, alone, in this neighbourhood where no one cares about you."

His knees felt weak and without him noticing he dropped to his knees, still unable to comprehend anything his beloved daughter had just said. After she had lifted Ryan into her car, she turned back to the pitiful state of the man that had once been powerful and threw something at him. "Here." she said gruffly, "Think of it as a last favour from your estranged family." she got into the car and drove away.

Drew stared at the little pink phone, he didn't comprehend. Finally he picked it up with his blood stained fingers, remembering what it was for. He slowly dialed 911 and explained his situation all with a cool voice. He had gone from hot to cold, he had summoned the coldness from the icy fury he felt inside his soul and vowed that he would track her and her pretty faced brother down and take them out slowly, one by one. He gasped as a wave of pain hit him, yes they would pay very dearly.

Minutes later, a siren sounded down the street and the girls and a handful of guys out on the streets strutting their stuff disappeared like smoke and moments later Drew could see the flashing red lights as he passed out. He later woke to the white walls and stomach rolling stench of antiseptic, morphine, and other less pleasant things, he moved his right hand to scratch an itch coming from his abdomen, only to find his hands cuffed to the railings on the bed. "What the?" Drew asked confused to no one in particular.

A man in a brown suit and scuffed black shoes appeared from the doorway, he was going bald and he was slightly pudgy, but that didn't mean he was stupid. Drew watched the intelligent and hawk like eyes scan him up and down. The man went to clip something to the lapel of his jacket, a badge. Drew's eyes widened slightly, the police. The man looked down at him, "Not a smart move, Reynolds. The phone call might have saved your life, but at the cost of being arrested."

Drew snarled and tried to wrench his hands out of the handcuffs, "Don't waste your strength." the man said, "We heard of your last, bust the bed scheme. Won't work this time, now I'll take the pleasure to reading you your rights." he read out the revised Miranda and then said with flourish, "Mr Drew Reynolds you are being arrested for: murdering your step daughter, Katrina Reynolds, bunch of other murders, sexual abuse, child molestation, rape, aggravated battery, assualt, assualt with a deadly weapon, fraud, and the list just goes on and on." he informed Drew, "They'll all be read out during your booking, man I feel sorry for the guy who's gonna read out your crimes, he'll be dehydrated by the time he's done." he walked out.

Drew screamed with frustration and wrenched helplessly at the handcuffs chaining him in place, he couldn't give the old fart of a cop the satisfaction of an easy take down of the most wanted man in Canada and the USA. But what could he do? Suicide? It was possible but then what about his revenge? His sweet revenge? No, suicide was out of the question unless it be the last resort, but he would have to have some sort of escape plane. With all the stuff he had done all over the country it would be likely he'd either get in for life or death, death was the way to go. Screw revenge, he wouldn't even get to taste the sweetness of it and it was always comfort before discomfort in Drew's books.

Captain Jim Brass smiled triumphantly into his coffee cup, before wincing as the sludge disguised as coffee touched his tongue. His head shot upward as the officer guarding the bastard's doorway started squawking for help. Doctors, nurses, and Brass rushed into the room, Reynolds was convulsing his eyes wide and glassy. Blood flowed freely from the gash on his wrist, Brass heard a doctor shouting distantly, "What happened?"

"He used his incisors to chew through." somebody answered.

Everything happened in a flash and Brass and a load of unhelpful nurses were pushed out of the room as the doctors rushed Reynolds into the OR. Brass frowned, the slippery sonofabitch. Brass hoped that he didn't die too soon, he wanted a crack at him.

Andrea parked in front of a motel on the outskirts of Vegas, every once in a while she could hear and feel the rumbling of airplanes flying over head. She wrapped a hand around Ryan's hips and proceeded to half support and half drag him up the stairs. They came to a bare wooden door with the number 48 painted on it, the red paint was cracked and peeling off. Andrea inserted her key and opened the door. The room beyond was bare and dingy, the windows were covered with filth and dust, the rug worn bare, but the best thing was, it didn't have any bugs. She gently laid Ryan down in what she assumed was a bed, it was only a mattress with thread bare sheets, and stretched out the kinks in her arms and neck.

She went to the tap and turned it on, at first it spurted before turning into a steady stream, she wet a cloth she found under the sink and filled a small bowl full of water. Turning off the sink she went back out of the small bathroom, only to be startled to see a pair of blue eyes staring at her balefully. She grinned, "You're awake?"

He only cocked his head to one side and shifted up onto his elbows without taking his piercing blue eyes off of her. "Ryan?" Andrea asked panic riding on her voice, "Are you all right?"

"Who...who are you?" he asked in a painful whisper.

"Ryan, it's me Andrea your older sister?" she set down the bowl and approached him.

Ryan shifted to one side, "I don't know you, get away from me."

Now the panic really started to sink into her soul and she thought, 'What did that bastard do to him?'

"Ryan, come on. Stop scaring me."

"Who the hell is Ryan? For god sakes leave me alone, you bloody murderer." he shouted, wincing at the pain enaminating from his cracked ribs.

Andrea stopped in her tracks as the truth shot home, she was a murderer, she had watched people die right before her, her hands had felt the warm red, coppery smelling liquid humans called blood. She had disfigured the helpless, all the while taking pleasure in seeing their terrified looks when they realized who and what exactly they were dealing with.

But then she realized that what Ryan was babbling about was just that, babbling. He didn't know where he was or who he was and that probably meant he was stuck in the crossroads between reality and the dream world. Andrea rubbed her chin, how was she gonna make him remember? She had read in one of those science journals, that it was the sick persons choice to when and how they were gonna wake up. "Might as well make the best of it." she mumbled to herself before rounding on Ryan who was now crouched in the far righthand corner of the mattress, his bruised back pressed upon the wall. "Here Zachy, I'm not gonna hurt you. I just wanna see your hurts and make them all go away." she cooed gently using his given name.

Ryan unfolded himself slowly out of his painful position and crouched cautiously in front of him, "You're not gonna hurt me?"

Andrea shook her head, "Promise?" he whispered his eyes wide and innocent looking like those of a small kid.

Andrea smiled down at him, "I promise."


	19. Cryptic Messages

Hey all, I'm kinda in a bored but can't study mode so I took a coupla days to write this. Not the best in the world, my rhyming skills definitely need a little more work but it'll be okay for now...or so I think. Also some of the facts in here, I'm not to sure about so I took a guess at them...have fun reading it.

Plz review...plz plz plz...

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Nineteen Cryptic Messages

Drew's jaw ached like hell, he stretched it outwards to try and prevent the rotten headache he could feel brewing at the back of his skull. No such luck, the headache built with vengeance and pounded the inside of his skull like some crazy drum beat. He thought if this was hell, then it was a pretty good deal, he didn't feel like he was burning alive or anything. But then it hit him the same time the smell of sterile cleanliness did, he wasn't in the underworld, he was still on earth in his own personal hell. Drew opened his eyes and found himself staring directly at a pair of angry brown eyes, "Think you can pull a fast one on me, aye?" the man asked, the police officer from before.

Drew scowled, it was never a pleasant sight to see someone standing over you when you woke up. "Why didn't you just let me bleed out?"

"Uh...news flash. Number one, you are in a hospital if they let you die they will be charged for negligent homocide. And number two, why would we let you go so easily to the land of the dead? Wouldn't it be more satisfying to see you rotting in jail?"

Drew sat up or tried to, he found himself in restraints. He turned his head towards the policeman and spat at him. The man just looked at his jacket and shrugged, "Such a petty thing to do, you know Reynolds you've stooped to the lowest of the lows."

Drew bared his teeth at him, he only tilted his head up to the ceilings, "As much as I would like to banter with you, I'm a very busy man." Brass turned to leave, "Oh and go see a dentist or something before you go on the inside, we wouldn't want your teeth falling out before their time, now would we?"

And he was gone leaving Drew grinding his teeth together in frustration, he looked down at the restraints and attempted to try and get out of them. The guard standing at the door to Drew's room looked behind him at the noise and wished him good luck. That criminal with bad teeth was never gonna get out of there alive without heading straight to Rikers or some other fancy jail. The guard instantly forgot about the man inside the room when his partner showed up to take over his post.

Brass strode towards the ICU wing of the hospital where he found Grissom, Catherine, Nick, and Sara all huddled together in Greg's tiny and fairly sterile white room. He backtracked a little before opening the door to the room, instantly he was shushed. Brass held out his hands as if to say, 'Okay, I'll be quiet.'

He stepped over to a slightly hard and lumpy chair and sat down, wincing as a coil dug into his butt. "So." he whispered, "How's he doing?"

"As well as can be expected, the doctors say he may have some brain damage but they are very optimistic about a full recovery." Grissom said over his shoulder.

Brass nodded and then something started ringing out of the blue, they all jumped at the disturbance in the silence. Grissom by reflex instantly searched for the source and was led to the drawer that kept all of Greg's clothes, or what was basically left of them. He dug around, all the while looking guiltily at Greg who's brows were knit together in pain. Grissom finally found the cellphone which was only partially melted on the outer edges and flipped it open, inside was a text message that read:

FAR AWAY I HAVE GONE

SINCE THE BREAK OF DAWN

ALONG MY SIDE I HAVE TAKEN

THE ONE YOU HAVE FORSAKEN

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

HE MAY NOT BE YOUR BIGGEST FAN

BUT HE HOLDS THE KEY

TO WHERE WE BE

ANOTHER HINT YOU SAY

IF ONLY YOU KEEP THE SISSIES AT BAY

LOOK INTO THE SHADOWS

INTO MINE, HIS, AND THE BATTLES

THE BATTLES WE FOUGHT

BUT NEVER WERE CAUGHT

FORESTS AND ROCK COLLIDE

BEHIND THE SHIELD WE HIDE

A LOT OF GOOD THAT DID US

TELL THE OLD MAN NOT TO CUSS

YOU HAVE MET HIM TODAY

FOR HE MUST PAY

FOR THE SINS HE HAS DONE

AND HE THOUGHT HE HAD WON

I GUESS THE SYSTEM

IS NOT MANNED ALL BY SCUM

A WEEK I GIVE YOU

FIND US I BEG OF YOU  
RELEASE US FROM THIS PAIN  
BEFORE THIS NIGHTMARE IS REPEATED AGAIN

REMEMBER A WEEK FROM NOW

FIND US SOMEHOW

BEFORE MORE INNOCENCE

ARE A TARGET OF MY VENGEANCE

Grissom stared at the message in horror, a week to figure this confusing message out and what the hell did she mean by you've met him who held the key today? Grissom was sure he hadn't met anyone who would pay for their sins or even remotely related to Andrea. Who was the forsaken one anyways? Where would he find her? Something behind a shield and rock and trees.

Grissom sat down hard and attempted to get his swirling thoughts into order, it did no good to anybody if he couldn't think straight. "What is it?" Catherine asked at her place beside Greg's bed.

He placed his head in his hands and squeezed his temples as if getting rid of some kind of pain there. "Andrea's text message."

Instantly tempers flared, "What! The nerve of her murdering ass."

"How dare she?"

"WHAT!"

Grissom shushed them all and said, "She's sending this to warn us, she wants to be found. Why?"

Sara stopped cursing the air blue and sat back defeated, "Because she wants this to end."

"That would be my guess, however she gives us a lot of hints and I'm not getting any thinking power here."

"Give me that." Brass said.

That surprised basically everyone in the room, Brass was more brawn then brains or so it seemed. He stared at it for a second and chewed on his lip. "I think I have a connection." Brass declared.

"Well what?" Grissom demanded impatiently as the others held their breath.

"The guy I just arrested, Drew Reynolds, he kinda fits into this and if I'm right Andrea and Ryan are his missing step children, they certainly fit the age group." Brass mumbled.

Grissom's eyebrows instantly snapped together, "Since when were Andrea and Ryan related to each other?"

"Well since we have the fingerprints, DNA, etc of all the people employed in the lab, we compared his DNA he voluntairily gave us on the first day to those in the system to see if we could find out who he really is."

Grissom's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing into his hairline, "Oh um..." Brass cleared his throat uncomfortably, "Didn't you mention that he wasn't who he was suppose to be? I had Wendy analyze his blood and it came up as a something something alleles in common to Andrea...half siblings. Not exactly a strong resemblance either, unless you look at the finer features."

"You had this information and you never even bothered to tell us?" Grissom hissed ferociously.

Brass smiled weakly, "I guess I forgot."

Grissom snarled, "Your little mistake could've cost us more and more lives."

Brass looked down, ashamed, "I know and I'm sorry. I didn't think it was relevant."

Grissom sighed, "Thirty five years and you still haven't figured out that even the smallest things to you could mean something big to a case." he placed a hand on Brass's shoulders, "Let's go and deal with this bastard."


	20. Reckless Actions

Hey all, I come with a story. I can't remember if I gave Andrea a last name, I'm pretty sure I didn't so yeah...anyways this is where the crossover kinda begins I'm a big fan of Nora McClintock, you might've read her books the Chloe and Levesque Murders...short but great and not in the library and not at Chapters...that I can find where I live. I only have like 4 or 5 of her books...can't remember...anyways I'll stop ranting for a moment to inform you that's where the last parts of this will take place...and involvement from the big bad Feds and CSIS's, I know what you're thinking what the hell is CSIS? (Canadian Security Intelligence Service) I think that's the Fed's in Canada...tis sad, I live in Canada yet I know more of the USA then Canada in these matters.

Plz review...I haven't had a review for a long time and battling it out with the LOTR obsessed people just isn't making my day. So make mine and I'll update sooner. Promise.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Reckless Actions

Andrea felt like she was dragging around a willful and very quiet puppy, Ryan was following her around like a...well like a puppy a very small puppy that had become very attached to her. Although maybe a very battered and very damaged puppy would be better. Ryan would flinch every time somebody touched him whether it be accidental or on purpose, that wasn't very helpful in the crowded streets of Las Vegas where either you elbow people out of the way or you get elbowed. So Andrea decided to steal another car and drive to the airport in that, she had changed both her image and Ryan's again.

Her hair was shorter and she was sorry to see the long locks gone, she had become quite attached to her hair these past years. Her eyes were a jewel bright sapphire and she was dressed sensibly in a modest cream colored blouse and some dark slacks. She was in rather flat soled shoes and small gold earrings gleamed at her ears. Ryan on the other hand had had his hair bleached in different shades of blonde, his bangs were hanging in front of his eyes but he didn't bother to brush them back. His eyes were now a gleaming hazel and he was dressed in a white dress shirt, black pants, and roughed up sneakers. He wasn't wearing any jewelry.

Andrea lifted her chin and stared at herself and Ryan through the small cracked mirror in their motel room and nodded, satisfied. This should be enough to get through customs without being detected, she checked both their ID's to make sure nothing incriminating like runny ink was spottable. After her inspection was complete she placed their ID's, airplane tickets, and her make up kit in her purse. She gestured to the two small suitcases and told Ryan to grab one, he stood up stiffly and did what he was told. Andrea thought he looked like a robot, his blank expression didn't change one bit.

She hurried down the rickety stairs and knocked on the manager's door. A willow like woman stepped out, Andrea was willing to place a bet that her fiery red hair was fake and so were her button breaking breasts. The manager flipped her curly hair over her shoulder and stared steely eyed at the shorter woman before turning and winking at Ryan who just blinked dumbly at her. "What do ya want?" she asked in a loud and bossy voice while digging into her small and stylish purse to grab a cigarette.

"We're just returning our keys, we're leaving." Andrea said.

The manager puffed on her cigarette for a minute, "I'm assuming you'd be wanting your safety deposite back."

Andrea shrugged nonchantly, "Sure."

She sniffed and told them to wait there as she went to check on the room upstairs for any additional damage, knowing her type Andrea was pretty sure she wouldn't return the money. Who cared? It was fake anyway, but that didn't mean Andrea wouldn't treat herself to the money likely stashed away in a safe. She hurriedly picked the lock with a broken bobby pin and headed inside, leaving the door open just a little, so that she could hear when the manager came back down. She found the safe behind a rather ugly painting, classic and rather stupid really. Andrea pressed her ear against the safe as she slowly turned the dial, surprisingly enough in no time the safe was open. She contemplated on leaving a note saying a safe with all the same numbers for each code wasn't exactly secure.

Andrea shrugged to herself and started piling the cash into her purse and she heard the stairs creak and squeek, she hurriedly shoved the rest into her purse and closed the safe and put the painting back into place. She quickly sneaked back to her place, softly locking the door behind her. The manager tapped her cigarette over the railing and sneered, "You broke the mirror."

Andrea just shrugged, "Oh well. Look." she stared at her watch, "We got to be off. Keep the money, we don't exactly need it."

The manager stared as they walked out, she smiled to herself, thinking to herself that she was pretty slick. She opened her door and headed directly for the safe and stared at the emptiness inside, she shrieked and ran out the entrance and watched as her two tenants drove away. She screamed as the dust cloud soiled her clothes and hurriedly punched a number into her vibrant red cell to report the robbery. The officer on the other side of the line made quite a face as he nearly went deaf.

Andrea laughed out the window as she saw the manager red faced and screaming at them. She gave her the bird before stepping on it, they had just a little over a half hour to get to the airport. She glanced behind her as she saw a police cruiser chasing her the lights and siren screaming at her, Andrea felt quite reckless today and decided a little cat and mouse game was in order. The car screeched along as she nearly clipped a big semi who honked angrily at her, she then moved into a rather tight space between a mini van and a rather showy sports car. This manouvre effectively caused the second car to crash and the mini van to speed up.

Andrea had to smile, soccor moms in a hurry were great. She haphazardly glanced behind her and saw the black and white stop to help the driver of the poor sports car. Andrea was sure he was blaspheming his way into hell. In the meantime more police cruisers joined in the pursuit, it was a fairly good thing they couldn't shoot at them as they were trundling down a small sidestreet. You gotta love the law, especially when it was in your favour. As she was nearing the airport, she gauged how much distance was between her vehicle and the black and whites, she nodded satisfied as she shot over a railroad track. Just in time too as the train sounded and the gate lowered, Andrea was pretty sure they didn't want to race the train on this one and possibly lose their lives and never see their loved ones again.

She hurriedly parked her car near the hotel and ditched it as she hurriedly grabbed the suitcases, "Run for the doors and don't look back." she hissed to Ryan.

They shot down the parking lot, dodging cars and people as they went. They made it just in time to hear that their flight was just about to leave, they rushed towards the entrance and collapsed into their seats as the flight attendants fluttered about telling everybody to buckle up. Andrea smiled triumphantly, breathing hard. Another point for her and still 0 for LVPD.

A nurse glared at them as Brass's cellphone started ringing, she put out her hand, "No cellphones in the hospital."

"Sorry." Brass said and headed outside after saying to Grissom, "Be right back."

Grissom smiled at him and proceeded down to the isolation ward, he spotted the uniform right away and flashed his CSI ID. He was stopped as he tried to walk into the room. "I'm sorry Mr. Grissom but nobody is allowed to go in, not even you. Doctor and Captain's orders."

Grissom assigned himself to a long wait as Brass probably did really head outside to answer the call. Minutes passed by as Grissom felt his eyes shut drowsily, he hadn't slept in over 36 hours, too bad he wasn't more like Sara who could stay awake for days at a time. He pulled them open as he heard Brass's footsteps echo through the ward, Brass nodded at him, "What was that about?" Grissom asked.

"They think they found Andrea's hidey hole, however they lost her in a car chase. Nice aye?"

Grissom frowned, "They think?"

"Oh." Brass shrugged, "Apparently she had changed her image and she had some guy with her, possibly Ryan. The uniforms didn't get a good look at them but she was driving a bright red volvo. Apparently she robbed some poor motel manager blind. Distributed plenty of fake bills all around, mind you those were good, you could hardly tell the difference between the real ones and the fake ones."

"Well that made sense since the swing shift had found an intensive money scamming operation in a warehouse under her name." Grissom said. "I wonder where they're going."

"I have some uniforms checking around..."

Brass's phone rang again, he sighed and answered it. He conversed with the person on the other side for a few minutes before turning back to Grissom, "They found the car abandoned with the keys still in the ignition and the car doors wide open near the airport. Apparently she has places to go."

"Can you postpone all the flights going out?" Grissom asked.

Brass shrugged, "A lot of them have left already, it's a bit after midnight." he said checking his watch, "But I'll see what I can do.

"Uh Officer Taylor." he said gesturing to the guard at the door.

The guard nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Let Mr. Grissom go through and talk to Reynolds, I'll be out in the field if anybody needs me."

"Yes, sir." the guard said.

"And stop calling me sir for christ's sake." Brass said over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir." the guard said.

"May I?" Grissom said pointing at the doorway.

"Yes, sir." the guard stepped away from the door.

"Thank you." Grissom said stepping into the cool room.

Reynolds looked up at him with murderous eyes and spat at him, "I'm not talking to no more cops till I get a lawyer."

Grissom sat down in a chair, "I'm not a cop. I'm a criminalist."

"Ya ya, same difference." he said rolling his head back onto the pillow.

Grissom refrained from informing Reynolds the difference between a cop and a criminalist, "I wanted to ask you, if you know a Ryan Anderson or a Andrea Chase."

Reynolds sneered, "Should I?"

Grissom cleared his throat, "Let me clarify. Do you know any of these people?" he slid two pictures out from the file folder he held and brought them inches in front of Reynolds nose.

He went crossed eye for a second before his eyes flickered over Grissom's face, "You know it would be a lot easier to see if you held them farther away."

Grissom backed off slightly. Reynolds studied the pictures slowly and licked his lips slowly, Grissom was sure if his hands were free he'd have traced their faces with his finger. "Yeah I know them. Btches every last god damn one of them. She put me in here to be caught tighter then a fly in a spider's web by the police." He muttered some other obscenities.

"Are they your step children?"

"If you can call them that. Ungrateful little twerps, should've murdered them all when I had a chance."

"When and where was the last time you saw them all together? Before you murdered Katrina?"

"I didn't murder that girl, it was the brother who did it. Threw her right out the window."

"Witnesses saw you do it."

"I didn't I swear."

Reynolds was getting agitated. Grissom worried that if he didn't calm Reynolds down then he'd be thrown out of the hospital. So Grissom went for the comforting technique, "Yeah it wasn't your fault. So where did you live. Somewhere in Canada right?" Grissom hadn't gotten all the info due to a bunch of red tape covering the finer details of the crime.

"Yeah. In a little place called East Hastings. I swear it was so small that everybody knew each other and instantly pegged the new people trying to settle in. Lots of rock and forests. Pretty secluded in there..." Reynolds voice trailed off as the effects of the sedative started working on him.

Grissom decided to ask one more question, "Does she hang around some place specifically?"

"Yeah." he mumbled sleepily, "Some cliff in the forest. Adam's...Adam's...something..." he drifted off.

Grissom deemed that to be enough information for now. However he didn't like where this case was pointing, more help from the Feds. 'Oh joy.' Grissom thought.


	21. Density

Hi people...kinda short but oh well...anyways hope you enjoy it...

DAMN YOU, FOR GOD'S SAKE REVIEW!

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty One Density

Grissom tried to smile, but he was pretty sure it came out more of a grimace. Two people walked toward him from a slick black car, they were dressed professionally in matching black suits, eye searing white dress shirts, dark sunglasses, and black briefcases. One was a woman, tall, and willowy. Her shiny chestnut shoulder length hair flaired behind her like a banner and she looked uncomfortable in this setting. She kept twisting her sterling silver necklace around her index finger and smiling nervously, she was a fairly pretty woman, Grissom noticed, and didn't wear any make up at all. The other one was a man, tall and thin as a toothpick. His dark brown hair was slicked back and his black tie was loosened a fair bit, he was smirking like he owned the whole world, he was very handsome and had probably used it to his advantage more then once.

When they reached Grissom, the woman smiled and held out her hand while tucking her sunglasses into her front pocket. "Hi." she said as she shook Grissom's hand, "I'm Special Agent Rianne Marcell and this is my partner Special Agent Jacob O'Brian. We're here to..."

"That's enought Marcell." O'Brian cut her off, "I think they know what we're here to do."

'Arrogant pig.' Grissom thought and nodded his head, "Right let's not waste time. Special Agent O'Brian I assume you have contacted your friends in the CSIS?"

At O'Brian's slightly flushed look, Grissom assumed he hadn't. Marcell looked positively delighted at this small turn of events, it looked like they didn't get along with each other much. Not exactly the best partnership in the world. Marcell grinned and said, "I've contacted Agent Chloe Yan in CSIS an old friend, she has yet to contact us about clearance from her superiors."

It looked like O'Brian was going to give Marcell heck over this later, but the momentary embaressment was what was going to make Marcell's day. Grissom nodded, "Alright, I suppose you'd like to come in now out of the sun." he said holding open the door for them to walk through.

Grissom noticed O'Brian sneer as they walked along the hallway surronded by the glass cages where the lab techies worked their butts off night and day. He could almost see the words 'MEDIOCRE TECHNOLOGY.' flashing across O'Brian's brain. Typical rich behaviour. On the other hand Marcell seemed quite interested in the way they analyzed their evidence with such outdated technology. It was interesting that the LVPD lab was only second to Quantico with not having upgrading their lab in a while and that other labs in the country with more advanced technology was way behind. So Grissom answered it the only way he could, "The most advanced technology is the brain and we have a lot of that going around."

O'Brian couldn't quite stiffle a snort of disgust, Grissom wholly ignored him which didn't do much for O'Brian's ego. Marcell nodded agreeing with Grissom, "Ironically it's the brain who invented these wonderful technologies, however now we have become independent upon technology which we created."

"Right, so who knows. In the near future computers might be the brain and the original brain will become mush."

Marcell shook her head, "It's sad."

"You're right, but it is the price of technology."

"Yeah." she muttered, throwing a glare behind her shoulder at her partner who was looking very unhappy at being ignored.

They stepped into the dingy conference room filled with the smell of stale coffee, Grissom had had Warrick sent to the counselor's office to finish his grief stricken mourning. Grissom busied himself by making coffee for the two and himself. O'Brian instantly dropped into a chair, "Just so we're clear. We appreciate your help, but we got it from here."

Marcell hit him in the arm, "Be nice."

"I am." he said reproachfully, "I'm just informing them that we have it from here."

Grissom handed them each a paper cup full of cop coffee, O'Brian took one slip and near spit it back out, "What the hell is this?"

"It's coffee." Grissom said from his place beside the coffee maker, he was piling sugar and cream into his coffee.

"To hell it is." O'Brian stuttered indignantly.

Grissom shrugged, "Drink at your own risk."

Marcell smiled and joined Grissom at the coffee machine and started stirring sugar into her cup, Grissom glanced at her, "I want a part of this you know. My team deserves to be a part of this."

"Well if you had caught her sooner, then you would've been a part of it." O'Brian said unkindly.

"Shut up, Jacob. Let them tag along. No harm will be done." Marcell said.

"Yeah, they'll just get in the way." O'Brian said while taking a sip of coffee.

"O'Brian, let them come. It's no big deal."

"It is if you're dealing with international issues."

Grissom just raised an eyebrow, "I won't take all the glory. I promise."

Elusive shreds of dreams flickered before Greg's eyes, he couldn't catch them for they were too quick and his hands to sluggish. In the distance he saw something sparkle, a necklace or something mayhap. He reached out slowly but surely, but the thing danced away and warm fingers clutched his hand. His eyes opened wide and found himself looking at a Grissom's blue eyes. It was hard to tell what kind of emotion ran in them, for everything was a mystery about Dr Grissom. You never could tell what he was about to say. But Greg swore that a kind of fatherly affection shone through the brick wall that Grissom had built around himself all these years. What would Greg know though? He never had a proper father to begin with, just foster parents who didn't give a sht where you were and if your grades were above average.

"Hi." Greg said weakly with a small smile.

"Hi." Grissom said softly before sitting down, "You remember what happened?"

"Yeah...she's not stable." Greg said with a slight cough.

"She skipped town and already headed over the border. The FBI and the CSIS are now involved."

Greg's grin widened just a little bit, "With all the rivalry between the Feebies and Sissies it's gonna take a heck of a long time to catch her." he paused to take one long shuddering breath, "All the intelligence agencies want the glory to themselves, they don't like to share unless the threat of war with the US is on their heads. That's why they can't catch criminals that cross the borders undetected cause they know nothing of teamwork."

"Interesting deduction, Greg." Grissom said thinking back to earlier that afternoon with the little spat between him and O'Brian.

"Doesn't make it any less correct."

"You're right."

"Thank you."

"I asked if we could tag along." Grissom said.

"Let me guess, no." Greg said shutting his eyes, he was starting to get a little drowsy.

"Nearly, there's two agents. One's on my team the other isn't."

"Ah, crossroads. I'm getting a little sleepy here." Greg said seconds before he started snoring gently.

Grissom smiled and let go of Greg's hand, he reached out, pausing before brushing a loose piece of hair away from Greg's face. "Sleep tight." he whispered, it sounded so familiar but so foreign to him.

Greg must have some sort of third consiousness, where even in his sleep he could hear what the outside world was doing. For a smile appeared on the pale face and he turned over onto his side towards Grissom. He couldn't help but smile at that. He stoood up to leave but was stopped by the sight of Catherine leaning against the doorway with a small smile on her face. "What?"

"Well." she walked across the room, "It's kinda hard thinking of you as a compassionate surrogate father."

"Oh really?" Grissom said amused.

Catherine's grin widened, "Nicky owes me 50 bucks now."

Grissom's smile slipped, "You bet on me?"

"Hey." she patted him on the shoulder, "I know there's a heart in there somewhere under all that unnatural love for bugs."

Grissom rolled his eyes, "It's not unnatural."

"Tell that to all the people out there with a phobia towards bugs." she cleared her throat.

"It's not unnatural." Grissom repeated, "It's not."

Catherine just smiled her 'You're so dense that you're cute,' smile and took up vigilance beside Greg's bed. Grissom just stood there with a stunned look on his face.


	22. In The Past

Hey all, I'm glad to say Exam week is over WHOO! And a happy Chinese New Years to everyone woot!

Thankz for ya review:

**icklebitodd:** Wow, you read this all in one sitting? I appraise your abilities to sit still. And you really think I have a good story here? Aw, thank you...personally I think it still needs a little bit of work though. And thank you, I'd hug you but I'm kinda anti social.

Plz review and enjoy.

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Two In The Past

Grissom was all packed, he had one suitcase full of clothes, a toothbrush, and other such toiletries. He made certain he had fed his prize winning cockroaches plenty of food, so he hopefully wouldn't find them dead by the time he came back. He checked his fridge and cleaned out whatever was in it that had already gone rotten, he glanced at them wistfully before throwing them out. They would've made an excellent experiment for the rate at which fungi grew. Grissom lugged his suitcase to the door and took one last sweeping glance at his neat and contrite town house. He took in the whiteness of the walls and the stacked magazines on the coffee table, the couch and the shelf of books holding the world's most famous authors and great encyclopedias of bugs and other such things. It hadn't changed much from the time he had bought it and now, except maybe the things it had held previously compared to now. He pursed his lips and closed the wooden door, making sure he had locked it behind him.

He hailed a taxi and had the man take him to the airport. There he would be meeting, Marcell and O'Brian, and fly in the FBI's private jet to meet this mysterious Agent Chloe Yan who worked for the CSIS. When he got to the airport he took in the sounds, sights, and rumbles. Everytime he was here, he was surprised that the force of the planes taking off wouldn't cause a gigantic earthquake and make the airport fall upon their heads. Just another beautiful thing about technology and human thinking. He turned and thanked the cabbie and lifted his suitcase once again before heading towards the place where the FBI agents had said they would be. When he got there he found himself looking at Catherine with her hands on her hips, yelling intelligible words at O'Brian. Okay granted that Grissom was still about 50 feet or so away from them, but he was sure it was intelligible. Grissom tried out his theory and he was right, the nearer he got the more screaming and yelling he heard but not defined words.

Suddenly a slim and fine boned hand gripped his arm, Grissom turned and nearly overbalanced sending both him, the person, and his luggage everywhere. But he caught himself just in time, but he did find himself face to face with sparkling whiskey colored eyes. "Leave them." Marcell whispered at him, "I'm quite enjoying the show."

Grissom made a noise which could've passed for a snort or a strangled chuckle, "What did he do?"

"Oh you know him. Made some rather stupid remark against a woman's sexuality. Boy that Catherine has one hell of a temper." she said admiring the way Catherine kept on throwing up her arms in frustration.

"You can say that again." Grissom said.

"It'll be a waste of time." she said matter of factly, "Anyways we should be meeting Jackie on the jet right now. Let's go break them up."

"Ladies first." Grissom said.

"Coward." she said over her shoulder and flipped her hair.

A faint scent of lilacs trailed in her wake, she walked right up to the shouting couple and pushed them apart, "Okay break it up, break it up! We're gonna be late."

They both stepped back and pinned each other with steely eyed glares, their eyes were a light with fiery hatred and if looks could kill, they'd both be nothing more then ash in the wind. They stocked off towards the sleek airplane and got in one at a time like good little children, Grissom lifted a brow at Marcell who looked positively like a madly grinning chesire cat. This was going to be one hell of a ride with the side dish of extreme tension. And the one flight attendant knew it, she cleared off immediately after she brought them their drinks. Grissom sighed and opened a book he had grabbed from Greg's bedside table at the hospital and Grissom had to admit, Greg did have a superior taste in good books.

Eragon, a seemingly childish book to read right now, but it was well written and had a fairly good plot line. Grissom had just got to the part where Brom died when he heard an angry growl. At first he thought it was his stomach, he hadn't eaten since breakfast, but then it came again. This time he was pretty sure it wasn't him, he looked around and found himself staring into a pair of eyes the second time this morning. But this time they were a bright blue, which reflected the light making it even lighter, Grissom was distinctively aware of a smell. It was slightly musky and could only be described as a doggy smell.

Grissom's eyes widened as he realized, who exactly this dog was. Before another thought passed his mind, the dog gave a happy bark and leapt on to his lap and barked merrily before licking Grissom's nose. "Well" Grissom said wrapping an arm around the dog's tiny frame and lifting it onto the arm of his chair, "What are you doing here?"

This effectively stopped Catherine and O'Brian glowering at each other for the moment, O'Brian looked outraged, "What is that mutt doing here?"

O'Brian was apparently not a dog lover either. Grissom checked the dog tags to be sure if this really was Trina and then stared at her again. Her beautiful black and white fur which had once been shiny and glossy was now dull and matted with blood and mud. She carried a few scars just above her wet and cold nose, but she seemed to be the same dog. Grissom and probably everyone in the lab had now totally forgotten that Ryan had had a dog and Grissom couldn't help but feel a little dart of guilt going straight for his heart. "Let's get you cleaned up, shall we? And maybe something to eat."

Trina agreed with that arrangement and showed her appreciation but barking merrily and chasing her tail on the beige colored floor. Grissom marked his place in the book and grabbed Trina's little body, he could literally feel her ribcage and that worried him. When had been her last meal? Days? Weeks? With all the panic going around lately everyone had forgotten the little things, like Trina.

In the men's bathroom, Grissom tried to be as gentle as he could be, but was rewarded for his efforts by a sharp nip on the thumb. He was glad that her teeth was too small to do any real harm, he wouldn't want to be catching any kind of disease on board without a doctor at hand. Grissom toweled himself and Trina off before gently putting her back on the floor, she barked again as if demanding for some kind of feast. Grissom couldn't help but smile.

Back in the seating area of the plane, Catherine picked up the little dog and stared at her and then shook her head in amazement. The flight attendant entered the room carrying a plate of cooked meat and a small bowl of water, she gently set it down, gave Trina a scratch behind her ears and disappeared again. Trina leapt off of Catherine's lap and started working her way steadily through the food. She must have been ravenous for she finished in a few minutes and was busy dunking her nose in the water.

All this was taken with a smile from Grissom, Catherine, and Marcell. However O'Brian just looked on with disgust. Every few minutes O'Brian would rub a particular spot on his lower left shin as if remembering some sort of wound that had been there a while back.

The second time in two days, Greg opened his tired eyes. He didn't feel so raw, so painful, just tired. He glanced to the right and Nick clasped his shoulder, "Hey man."

"Hey." Greg said back, tiredly.

Nick grinned at his friend who was well on his way to the road of recovery, "Grissom and Catherine are on their way to Canada right now."

"Good luck to them." Greg sat up suddenly and stretched, rolling his shoulders back until he heard a satisfying crack, "Oh, I so needed that. So how's...Warrick holding up? And what about you and Sara?"

Nick looked off to one side, "Warrick is getting himself pulled back together the best way he can. Ecklie's given him a month to recuperate, funny how his caring side comes out now."

Greg sighed, "Warrick's gonna be okay, but the memory of Tina's gonna haunt him forever."

"Yeah."

"So what about you and Sara, what are you guys doing?"

"Day shift is so backlogged from taking in all the case loads, that it'll probably take forever for them to untangle their line of thoughts. Sara and I have been called in to help them, so far we solved about a dozen cases from weeks ago."

"Way to go."

"Yeah...but there's still a lot more to go."

"Don't worry, some way you'll get them all solved." Greg said before reaching over for a glass of water.

Nick handed him one and saved Greg the trouble of lifting the heavy water jug to pour himself a glass, "So how are you feeling?"

"Me?" Greg said sipping the water, "Tired comes to mine."

"That's because you spend all your time sleeping."

"True, funny how that works aye? You get less then 5 hours of sleep you get hyper, you get more then 8 then you're tired."

"Maybe it's some weird adrenaline kind of thing." Nick said before settling down, "Did Grissom tell you?"

Curious bright eyes stared at Nick, "Bout what?"

"Andrea's real identity? And so on..."

"I don't think so, no why?"

"I guess I get the job of explaining everything, why do I always get that job?"

"Cause you're a CSI."

"Good point." Nick said and spent the next hour, filling Greg in.

"Wow." Greg said as he looked down, "I missed a lot."

"Don't worry you'll catch up."

"That's just sad. A killer raised by another killer, child services should've checked in their home after one of them was rushed to the hospital with a collapsed lung."

"They could've tried but remember, these people are masters of disguises. They probably would've moved before the rep came around." Nick said.

"Yeah and once they found out they moved, they shuffled it to the back of their minds and forgot all about it." Greg said staring at one of his wrists.

Nick followed Greg's line of sight and stared at the thin wispy angry red lines crisscrossing there and he suddenly understood, Nick gripped one of Greg's hands, "I'm sorry, man."

"What's passed has passed." Greg said staring intently at his scars.


	23. Warmth

I am so fricking sorry for not updating this sooner, my english and science teachers have literally gone crazy, they're assigning huge amounts of homework including the dreaded essay...damn right I should get 60/60 on it...anyways this chapter sucks very badly, badly betaed, badly everything...I seriously don't know how to transition this to the ending...so it'll take a lot of disjointed chapters and possibly badly written...anyways I think another chapter or two and I will finally be finished this story...Oh joy...

And thank you for the boatloads of reviews, I luv ya:

**icklebitodd:** Your teachers are like my teachers, they sprout random stuff that half the time is usable the other half is just akward. There be more, but there also be more crap.

**karmine: **Updating...finally...thankz...

**Dybdahl:** Not my fault that the translator sucks and I know not a word of what was it...Norwegian or Italian but seriously that part was just some useless banter where Andrea is trying to Greg to open up a little and he retorts back with Norwegian...

More reviews plz...I gotta tell you I hoard them all on my email account...and I have not used up more then 1...amazing huh?

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Three Warmth

They had been led to a medium sized room with walls made out of glass and wood, the floor was covered with a carpet of short fibres, and rows of what seemed like very comfortable chairs. Grissom looked around, a coffee machine filled with piping hot coffee stood in a corner and a painting of some landscape on the wall which wasn't made of glass, on closer inspection Grissom was surprised. The painting was a Monet, such a famous piece of artwork should be in some stuffy museum not here in the waiting room of the CSIS.

Sharp stacotto footsteps echoed thoughout the room, Grissom turned as a young woman in her mid-twenties appeared. At first glance, Grissom would've pegged her as an asian but at a more scrutinized look he could see other features that wouldn't have fit. The young woman turned her head towards them and smiled a slow greeting, her teeth were white and pearly, perfectly straight. Her black hair or something near it fell just short of her shoulder blades, her nose was long and pointed, her eyes were a piercing dark brown and she was tall but trim. Grissom notice O'Brian's eyes slip down towards her breasts and Grissom just closed his eyes. Don't get him wrong, but they were pretty large...

The woman cleared her throat, "I'm Agent Chloe Yan with the CSIS. We'll do everything in our power to help." she shifted on one of foot and said, "I'd appreciate it if you didn't stare so...Special Agent O'Brian."

The color that O'Brian's face turned to would make a good solid red to use on a t-shirt, Marcell smiled, "You already know our names?"

"Did a little digging. Curious, you know." Yan said and looked around the room, "I suggest you grab a coffee and bundle up, we're headed for a small dinky town out in the middle of nowhere while it's snowing large snowflakes that I would rather observe inside a nice warm room with a blazing fireplace."

They all raised an eyebrow at each other, with the exception of Yan. O'Brian snorted, "It's not that cold is it?"

Yan shrugged, "Just don't blame me if a certain part of your anatomy falls off from frostbite or something."

O'Brian gulped, Marcell stood up brushing a wrinkle from her sleeve, "But we didn't bring anything...heavy."

"Oh don't worry." said Yan dismissively, "I'm sure we can dig up something."

In the end they found, CSIS department issued winter wear, Yan stood nearby drinking a cup of coffee and watched them put on layers and layers of clothing, or so it seemed. Grissom thought they looked like a couple of fat marshmallows and hoped to god that this wasn't some kind of joke making the americans look like a bunch of idiots so the CSIS's could snicker behind their backs. They waddled, for lack of a better word, after Yan and stopped as she reached for her her thick winter jacket, scarf, and gloves.

They marched outside in the brisk wind for a few minutes before boarding a plane which zipped them into a snowy winter wonderland in less then 10 minutes, they stopped at Toronto and Grissom was told that they were still hours away from this small and tiny town. Apparently it was the nearest airport, Grissom looked up at the light snow blowing in, it wasn't so bad. They were all heaped together in a black SUV, immediately they started shedding some clothes, for they were getting a little too warm. One by one they fell asleep only to be awakened again by a train flashing past, Yan turned around from the driver's seat, "We're here."

They looked around. The snow coated everything it could, making the world look like it had been engulfed by a thick white blanket. Fat snowflakes drifted lazily towards the earth, rejoing their brothers and sisters who had already found their way to their final resting place on earth. It was more snow then they had ever seen in their lives and they all stared unashamedly with wide eyes and gaping mouths. Yan smirked and then started driving again when the train finally passed, they all felt the bumps on the rough road and the heard the squeal of the tires on the ice and snow.

Grissom adjusted his seatbelt for it was digging into his shoulder, "Does the word Adam mean anything to you?"

"I'm assuming you mean a place right? Not some hinky dink god or person." At Grissom's nod she continued, "Yeah I know a few places. This guy opened up a restaurant here a couple of years ago, called Adam's Finest. Let me tell you, it's not the finest, not even mediocre, it's plain horrible. Don't go there if you don't want to risk your health.

"I remember naming this big assed tree, Adam's apple, seriously it looked like it had an adam's apple.

"And then there's those things with Adam in it...let's see. McAdam's Finest Brewery, MacAdam's Lookout, and yadaa yadaa yadaa. Boy the things you forget when you leave home for a while. Anyways, I can probably get you a map or something."

Yan stopped her ranting just a bit as a car cut in front of hers, she swore at the car and honked at it. When it slowed down to a turtle's car, she acclerated in the slow but slightly clogged traffic, dodged through a narrow space and cut every car off in their lane. Grissom suspected she got a small glow as the noise rained down on their ears. She drove for a slight while longer and then pulled in front of a tidy frosting layered house. She parked in the driveway next to a dark car and motioned for them to get out. They almost toppled as they all stepped into a gigantic pile of snow and lost their balance. O'Brian actually did and landed heavily on his behind, unfortunately nobody seemed to have noticed.

Yan rang the bell and stepped back, moments later the door opened and a pair of periwinkle blue eyes peeked out. They were deeply lined with crowsfeet and it was the most striking feature of the small slim face. The small plump mouth smiled, "Chloe, how nice of you to drop by." thin arms wrapped around her neck and Yan leaned down slightly for a small kiss on the cheek.

Yan smiled cheerfully, "Hi, mom. Hope you don't mind if I brought a couple of laggards with me."

The woman mocked glared at her daughter, "They're guests, they should be treated with respect."

Before Yan could reply somebody stepped out from the shadows, he was tall, broad shouldered, and what could only be described as imposing. Although his dark bushy moustache and hair were threaded finely with silver threads. He appeared to be evaluating them all with the cool eyes of a cop, Grissom had worked around cops enough times to know what their eyes were like. Yan smiled and stood up on her toes to give the guy a smack, "Hey Louis, how's it going?"

The man turned back to Yan and cracked a smile, "Just fine, Chloe, just fine. Well let's not stand outside in the cold. Come in." he said in a rumbling tone and walked back inside.

Yan's mother smiled, "Yes, yes please come in. Don't mind Louis, his shoulder is hurting him again. This cold makes it stiff."

They all smiled as they went inside, although you could tell some of them were already falling off as they stepped into the thereshold, Grissom grinned amused at the bright yellow floral print covering the walls. He noticed that some of the group winced as if it was turning them blind. They slowly took off their winterboots, the heat of the house was already working on melting the snow off of them. They hung their heavy coats up and unwound the scarves off of their necks, the elderly couple showed up seconds later with cups of hot tea, the flowery smell wafted towards them and their stomachs grumbled. They hadn't eaten anything for the last twenty four hours or so. They descended on the tea like a pack of hungry wolves, Grissom inhaled the fumes and took a sip. It was like liquid gold, sliding down his throat, warming him all the way to his toes before settling warmly in his stomach.

Apparently Yan had called ahead and her parents had prepared rooms for them to sleep in, the house was bigger then Grissom had originally thought, they each had a room to themselves and they were all fairly roomy. Yan had blushed when they reached her room and had slammed the door in their faces before they could get a good look at what lay inside. The mother apologized and said, "She's a bit touchy with people poking into her room."

Grissom stared out of the small window of his room and watched the still falling snow drift silently onto the ground, he had just finished a delightful supper comprised on roast beef, wild rice, and mashed potatoes. It was already nearing midnight before Grissom thought to move from his post from beside the window, the wind was whistling through the crack in the window and allowing cold air to chill Grissom to the bone. He shifted and moved towards the bed to wrap himself in a thick comforter that he had been lent and debated whether or not to call and check up on Greg. But his eyes started to droop before he could reach for the phone and dial the number, seconds later he was lying spread eagle on the soft bed. From the house just beyond Grissom's window, Andrea lowered her binoculars and helped herself to a self satisfactory smirk. They were playing right into her hands.


	24. Memories

Booya! I work faster when I have pointless english homework to do...shit that reminds me I still have to do it... meh! Anyways hears another chappie to tide you over till next saturday or so...maybe sooner...

**karmine:** Yep, scary and this time more Greg angst...CELEBRATE!

Remember...reviews stimulate my creativityness (Is that how you spell it?)

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Four Memories

Greg sat up, fast, sweating, his eyes wide with fear and confusion. He had nearly cracked his head on the attending nurse's sharp little chin, luckily she had jumped back just in time to miss the pain that would've been inflicted on both parties. It took a while for Greg to swim through the layers of his subconsious to the real world, he blinked twice at the young nurse standing before him. She looked quite worried, "Sir? Should I get the doctor?"

Still muddled by the confusing dream he had, Greg shook his head, more to clear it then anything. The nurse left quickly after giving Greg a hard long stare, he seriously thought that that stare equaled him in a padded cell room somewhere in the psychotic ward. He rubbed his forehead and hugged his blanket covered knees, it was near midnight and he could see through the glass door that only a few lights were left on to conserve energy. He buried his head in his arms and closed his eyes, the images from his dream flashed vividly in his head. Greg wanted to open his eyes, wanted to quite seeing the images, but he couldn't, he was drawn to them. Again he was pulled into the nightmare he had been having the last few days in the hospital, at first he had blamed it on the hospital food, but as the images got clearer and clearer he realised he was having some sort of premonition. This time he actually remembered what had happened in his dream.

_His body seem to float above the scene, exactly what he was looking at he had no idea. He seemed to be in a spacious room, the rug was a rich blood red and gold and designed lavishly with what seemed to be people in various stages of copulation. Maybe that part was all in his over reactive imagination that liked porn, he shook his head and focused on the things lying on the rug. What were they? People? He flew lower to see, it was. There were three of them, arranged in a kind of triangle. The top of their heads pointed into the middle of it as their rigidly straight bodies pointed outwards. They were dressed in a flimsy white nearly transparent robes which had been arranged carefully to make them look like some god or goddess from the time of the romans._

_He flipped over on his back to catch a glimpse at the ceiling before he threw up because of the rotten stench smothering his nose and mouth making it hard for him to breath. Then that provoked the question, can he really throw up in a dream? His stomach was protesting, that was for sure. He rubbed his eyes as he floated on his back, then stared at the ceiling again, it was an exact mirror image of the bodies below. He glanced behind him and then in front, he couldn't believe it, and the stench was now crushing him, slowly forcing the breath out of him. He couldn't breath, he clawed at his throat. Then suddenly a bright light shone and Greg forgot he couldn't breath, a lady with delicate features stared at him. An angel, complete with larger then life silver wings. Okay, Greg thought, this dream was really getting cheesy._

_She blinked at him and flew or more like swam closer. Why did she remind him of someone? She was only inches from him, Greg stared at her lips, they were a bright cherry lips just waiting to be kissed. He closed his eyes and leaned forward, suddenly cold fingers grasped his chin and pulled. Greg's eyes popped open and stared at the would be angel, she didn't look quite so pleasant now. In fact her whole being had changed, her wings were tattered, blackened and charred and her silver robe was now an ugly grey. Her hair was tangled and she looked quite deranged. She pointed a finger, the nail filed to a gleaming point, down at the bodies. Clearly she wanted him to go down there and take a look at them, but for what purpose? The longer Greg hesitated, the angel/demon dug her nails into his chin harder. Finally he allowed himself to be dragged down into the stench. She jabbed again, Greg followed her finger which pointed to the face of one of the deceased. His eyes widened and tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and it wasn't from the pain of the viselike grib she had on his face. It was his mother, his actual biological mother. _

_On his eighth birthday, Greg had managed to wheedle his mother into letting him sleep over at a friend's house. Little did he know that that was going to be the night that he would last see his parents alive. As he was tucked warmly into bed by his best friend's mother and falling asleep with not another thought to the world, his parents were being brutally murdered for nothing more then a few hundred bucks and some jewellary. He remembered the very next day, it had all seemed so surreal, so fake. He had kept telling the police that it wasn't true, that they had made a mistake, that they had identified the wrong people. The detective, in this day and age would've been classified as an old fart, had got so exasperated that he forcefully led the unwilling boy to the mortuary. He had then threw the sheets off of the naked bodies of Greg's parents and Greg had shattered there and then. He couldn't remember what happened afterward, just the faces of his dead parents. Then he had began his trip from foster home to foster home, he neither desired to stay long or was wanted. As soon as he had hit eighteen he had disappeared with his parents money and went to university._

_The angel/demon led him to the second body, he stared down at it for a few seconds before he realised that this had been one of his foster brothers. Greg had been somewhere in his early teens, twelve or thirteen, he had thought himself very lucky to have landed himself with this set of fosterparents. They were both very nice and unlike the others they hadn't treated him little more then shit. Jake Peters, the fosterparents son, was a just two years older then him. He had treated Greg with respect and integrity, something Greg had been missing for most of his miserable life. They had became fast friends but when Jake hit sixteen, he had started pushing Greg away. At first Greg was hurt, but then he realised it was just Jake being a teenager. But Jake had gone deeper then that, he had started coming home high and took his frustration out on Greg as his parents pretended not to notice. Then one night, Jake never came back. Later Greg found out he had overdosed on heroine, that's when the Peters turned on him, blaming him for the cause of their son's death. They practically enslaved him and that was when Greg found out the wonders of what cutting could do for him. At first they had been little nicks on the forearm, then they had became wider and deeper and closer to the main vein running down his arm. After a particular hard month at the Peters, he had finally slit his wrists, but he had paniced and had dialed 911 with shaking bloody fingers. He had woken up in a hospital and the child services rep had profusely apologized to him over and over again for not checking up on him and making excuses. Greg hadn't cared, not then not now._

_Greg was drawn to the last body, he floated there without the lady's help. He hardly noticed as she floated back and melted silently into the darkness. He found himself staring at the pale face of Ryan, his mouth formed a 'what?' He shook his head in denial, it couldn't be, Ryan wasn't dead, was he? This dream, it was all a lie. He couldn't be dead, Grissom hadn't phoned and told him or anything, but then that was Grissom, he never told anybody anything. He was suddenly pulled into a fairly recent memory. Ryan was leaning against the counter in the breakroom, twirling a pen through his fingers and looking in disgust at a jar. Greg knew that it was probably one of Grissom's crazy experiments, he tried not to think of Nick's outrage when he found out it had been sitting next to his sandwich again. Greg gave a slight nod at Ryan and poured himself a cup of coffee, on an impulse he had asked some stupid question of death and what Ryan had thought of it. Ryan had stopped twirling his pen and looked down at his shoes, he had turned to Greg and said, "Death frees us from our mortal bodies. Free for us to be like the wind." he then looked sheepish, "I should really stop listening to my english professor, his words-" he made quotation marks with his hands, "-of wisdom have stuck in my head." he had then left to go finish up the samples that still had to be analyzed. Greg had stood there for minutes trying to decipher what he had meant, in the end he had to agree, death frees the soul._

Warm blood trickled down her arms, Andrea watched one particular drop as it dripped onto the carpet, pooling there just next to her latest victim's head. She hadn't meant to kill them, but the blood lust had been too strong. She stared in disgust around her, blood had splattered all over the walls and her, dying it a pure red, seriously she hadn't intended to kill tonight, if she had she would've worn something more fitting. Andrea had just ruined her blouse and dress pants, the ones she was going to wear when she confronted Grissom the next day. Hell at least she got to go shopping for the last time. Andrea had snuck into the house full of sleeping people so she could spy on the Feebs and most importantly Grissom, stupid girl had woken up to find her staring out the window. Not her fault that girl tried to scream and rouse her parents up, in the end Andrea had killed everyone including their dog because of one stupid little girl.

Andrea placed the bloody tip of the knife to her cheek and thought, 'Hm...what should I carve upon their backs? So many questions.' She gazed around the room for some inspiration and decided to do a huge carving, each body would host some part of the carving. She grabbed the husband by his armpits and dragged him over to the wife and daughter, she then kicked them over so their backs faced the ceiling. She carefully sliced their tops off and started her work.

Hours later, Andrea got up and studied her handywork while stretching, it was no mean feat to remain bent over for hours at a time. Claude Monet's Water Lily Pond, incidentally the very one that hung in the CSIS waiting room, though she did not know it. She contemplated whether or not to take the knife with her, but in the end opted to leave it behind. They would know this is her work, but on the off chance that they would think this was some kind of copy cat...

Andrea did a full 360 sweep of the room, she opted to leave the knife in the head of the little girl. She kneeled and with slow precision, she sunk the knife in to her open eye, instantly a river of red flowed out and pooled on Andrea's hand and shoes. She let it soak her already blood stained clothes before moving towards the bathroom, she had herself a nice warm bubble bath and cleaned herself throughly of any traces of blood. Rubbing a fluffy white towel over her hair, she kicked her clothes into the hamper, it left a trail of blood. She bent down and scrubbed the rest of it up before discarding the towel too.

Walking naked through the hallway, she entered the husband and wife's bedroom. She rummaged around in their closet before coming up with a decent set of clothes that didn't involve some stupid flowery print. She dressed quietly and efficiently, however she didn't want to put on some dead woman's underwear. Slipping on the black slacks, she grabbed a decent set of heels and her coat before leaving the house and neighbourhood, no one the wiser except for her.


	25. Watchful

Hi everybody. Again I blame school for the crappy chapters...hopefully the next one will be better but I'm not holding my breath...I'll try to get one out soon since it is the reading/family week thing... But I have bloody school on Tuesday and Wednesday and I have a stupid radio play due, which I'm in charge of everything and my group goes off skiing someplace awesome...

Thank you for your reviews:

**CSigurlie07:** Thankz and I think it's spelt Jaque...but hey what do I know?

**karmine:** Aw thank you and I'm updating...

Plz review and enjoy...

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Five Watchful

Andrea wiped the light snow off of her stylish black overcoat, she threw a glance at Ryan who was hunkered down on top of a rock with his hands pushed into his pockets. He looked miserable with the snow piling up on his already soaked blonde hair, and with the rising wind chill it was getting colder and colder every second. A particular nasty stiff wind had ripped Andrea's cashmere scarf from her neck, she was still pouting over it. She hunched her shoulders and gauged the time by the pathetically weak orb of light that may have passed for a sun if the sky wasn't so grey. She pursed her lips and shuffled her feet before nodding satisfied, she headed over to Ryan and put her lips close to his ear. He shivered at the sudden puff of hot air whooshing past his face, "Zachary, honey." she said soothingly, "I am going to visit a friend of ours, okay? You can find your way back can't you? Good." she hugged him tightly, "Goodbye Zach, be a good boy and don't let the police get you." her voice turned poisonous, "They'll shove you in a hell hole full of nasty snakes and spiders. Don't want that now do we?"

Andrea got up and stumbled down the frozen dirt path heading westbound off of MacAdam's Lookout and out of the forest. Halfway down she looked over her shoulder to make sure that Ryan wasn't following her, she then ran a gloved hand on the nearest tree as if sentimentally saying goodbye to it too. She then shook her head hard and chased those thoughts out of her head, before continuing again.

On the top of MacAdams's Lookout, Ryan turned his head back to the open grey sky above him and pulled his knees up to hug them closer to his cold body. He felt so cold, colder then it felt possible. His subconsious mind that hadn't been tramutized as badly during the rape, knew that something was up. The cold wasn't physical, the cold resided somewhere near his heart and was spreading rapidly to his lungs and stomach. It felt like something big was lodged there and he couldn't get it out, it was slowly squeezing the breath out of him. Ryan's head rested on top of his knees and silent tears fell leaving wet paths along his face, they gathered at the end of his nose and fell.

Grissom woke up to the sound of the vicious wind rattling the window, he winced as he moved, the cold always made his joints ache. He clutched the downy comforter around his shoulders and felt an odd sensation. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing to attention, he quickly turned to the window. The only thing he saw was the snow swirling lazily against the white and foreign background. He was starting to believe Greg, people get more paranoid the older they grow. He tried to push it from his mind but he couldn't shake the feeling of foreboding.

He met the others in the kitchen after he washed up. O'Brian was yawning and drinking gallons of coffee, Marcell, Yan, and Catherine was having what would be classified as girl talk, the parents were making a lovely smelling breakfast which seemed to comprise of fluffy omlettes and sizzling bacon. Grissom sat down at the well scrubbed table and pulled a plate of already cooling breakfast in his direction, the heavenly scent drifted through his nasal passage. He grabbed a cup of coffee too and enjoyed the taste of coffee other then the sludge back at the lab. However he didn't enjoy it for long, Yan's phone rang and she stopped her chuckle to answer it. "Yan...yes...yes...SHIT!"

Everybody looked up as Yan swore loudly, her mother gave her the look that only mother's could give. Yan visibly shrunk back, ashamed, "Sorry, but it seems like your killer has broken her promise."

"What?" Grissom said frowning, "She wouldn't do something like that."

"Well, the local police was kind enough to call me. Cops got called to a 459a (Burglar Alarm Ringing) and they found the whole family murdered in the living room, same MO."

Catherine shook her head, "But she doesn't murder more then one person at a time."

"Seems she has graduated." Yan said with disgust, "Let's go check it out and confirm it's the same MO. We'll split the team up, O'Brian, Marcell, and Catherine why don't you check out places Andrea will most likely inhabit. Grissom and I will check out the crime scene."

"Don't you need us to process?" Catherine asked.

"No, if it's not a copycat then we already know who the culprit is. Besides this way we could track her down faster if we know where all her haunts are, if she has any."

Grissom could see Catherine and the feds look uncertain so Grissom gave them the extra push, "Go we'll be fine."

They borrowed the mom's car and left to go look for places with the name Adam in it. Yan motioned for Grissom to follow her, they didn't take the car for the house was only across the street from the backyard. Within seconds their faces and fingers went numb and they felt the skin on their faces starting to take on the unpleasant feeling of being frozen. Grissom pursed his lips and forged on in the white blur, when they reached the yellow police tape and ducked under it to enter the house, the wind suddenly died down. Nature was funny that way and probably that's why it had so many enemies.

A police officer dressed warmly in his winter uniform took their coats and motioned them to go inside, a plainsclothes cop came up to them. His badge was attached to his front jacket pocket, he was a detective. His light brown hair was peppered with bits of grey and white, crows feet showed around his eyes, these features marred an otherwise young looking man. Yan obviously knew him for she went up to him and gave him a huge bear hug and a kiss on the stubbled cheek, "Steve, how's it going?"

Dave smiled wearily, "I'm fine Chloe and you?"

"Cold."

"Well, we have been having some weird snowfalls this year. Usually it isn't so bad."

"That's what you said last time." Chloe said before breaking the hug, "Grissom this is Steve Denby now chief of police here, Steve this is Gil Grissom from the Las Vegas Crime Lab."

They shook hands, "Wow, Vegas. You've come a long ways."

"Yeah. But not by my own choice."

Steve lost his smile for a few seconds before it was forced back on, "I see. This Andrea's tough stuff. She did a number on the Nixon's, she well...take a look for yourself." He took a hankerchief from his pocket and pushed the heavy wooden door open.

Grissom's eyes widened at the scene lay before him. It was one of the bloodiest scenes he had ever seen in his whole career, the walls looked like they had been painted with the blood of the family, the carpet had soaked through and he was sure that the blood was making it's steady way down to the basement. Underneath the iron smelling blood, Grissom could catch the stale stench of death. He glanced up at the ceiling, the stark whiteness of it made the slashes of blood look thinner then they really were. Grissom shook his head, they would never truly get the blood out or the stench. They didn't venture into the room farther in fear of destroying evidence, they looked up as Steve came back with plastic bags. Yan sniffed before chuckling slightly and tied the plastic bags over her shoes and around the bottom of her pant legs so they wouldn't get bloodied. Grissom did the same.

Even if they were wearing plastic bag covered shoes, they still felt the unpleasant squelch of stepping into brain matter and such things. Grissom pulled on the latex gloves also supplied by Steve before walking any farther to study the bodies. Their heads were all facing the middle while their bodies were rigidly pulled outwards in a spikey triangle of sorts. Grissom stared down at the little girl who was probably no more than eight or nine, her whole life had been ahead of her only hours ago. The murder of children seemed to be the hardest out of all the other murder cases, Grissom didn't have any explanation why. But the answer was nestled somewhere in his heart. He leaned down and studied the kitchen kinfe plunged into the little girls eye, bloody prints could be seen clear as day. From his jacket pocket, Grissom pulled out a card which held the prints of Andrea. He made a confirmed match and went back out of the room to take a breather, he took off the plastic bags and sealed them in evidence bags before wandering the house. Half way down the hallway he noticed a bloody handprint, he followed the smudges after it to the bathroom. He opened the door slowly and saw the hastily wiped blood on the floor and the bloody hamper which was knocked over, spilling its contents onto the floor.

Grissom bent down and dug through the contents of the hamper and pulled out bloody women undergarments, he flipped them over, certainly not menstrual blood. He dug out more bloody clothes until he had a full set of bloody clothes. He quickly deduced that Andrea had changed here. All of a sudden he felt he was being watched for the second time this morning. He glanced behind him through the frost covered windows. That's when he saw her.


	26. Shot

Stupid fluffy snow...GAH! Now I can't go take my learners cause my mom is afraid of crashing the car, now I have to reread the stupid book...AGAIN!

Anyways...how are you guys?

**karmine:** I'm so glad you like this story...and I'm updating as fast as I can...

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Six Shot

She smiled ferally at Grissom and gave him a cheeky wink. He was already slamming his way out of the house, he took the short cut to and out of the kitchen back door. He stood on the stoop for a moment, the snow puffing up from his hurried feet. Grissom searched for Andrea, his eyes made a wide 180 arc, he saw her leaning against the street light. He approached with all caution, but she just smiled and darted down the street. He swore and wished for once in his life, he had his gun handy. But no, it had been left back at Yan's house, in his room, under the pillow. He mentally cursed himself for his stupidity now more then ever, when he realised that he wasn't wearing his jacket either. 'Great.' Gissom thought cynically, 'They'll find me either murdered or an ice cube.'

Andrea always seemed to stay out of his reach, if he got too far behind then she would stop for a mere few seconds until he was about 50 yards away, then she would slip away again. Grissom's legs pounded against the sidewalk, pushing for his best speed. However Andrea being more in shape and lithe she could and did crawl though a hole in a chain link fence with no difficulty. Grissom had more difficulty, his clothes kept catching on the jagged edges and it didn't help much that Andrea was sitting only a couple of feet away laughing at him. Finally untangling himself, Andrea got up and flew through the snow covered field. Grissom reached for his back pocket, his cell phone had to be there somewhere, but he couldn't find it. Andrea stopped by one of the outer trees of the park, she held up his cellphone and shook it, "Looking for this?" she yelled at him from across the clearing.

Grissom didn't bother wasting his breath, he could feel a stitch starting to needle its way into his side. He braced his ribs but didn't slow down, he saw rather then heard Andrea giggle as she darted up the leaf covered trail. Grissom followed her without hesitation. It seemed like he had chased her for hours, but in reality maybe no more then half an hour. She seemed tireless, darting and twirling among the dark shadows cast by the trees. Grissom just stumbled after her, crashing through the undergrowth. Grissom could feel the beads of sweat pooling down the line of his back and forehead. He felt decidedly too hot, even though it was well below minus ten degrees celsius.

Suddenly the glimpses of Andrea's black swirling overcoat disappeared altogether. He stopped and bent over breathing hard, the stitch came back with a fiery vengeance and he winced at the pain. He glanced around and picked a random direction he forced his way one handed through a bush and found himself in some kind of clearing. Andrea was standing in the middle of small clearing with her head bowed, her short hair covered her face. Grissom stood there stunned slightly, he didn't know what to say, but one word did come forth from the turmoil in his mind, "Why?"

Andrea looked up and drew her hand out of her pocket. Grissom found himself staring down the nose of a glock. Andrea moved forwards as Grissom leaned back slightly, "Don't move." she growled at him.

Grissom froze in a very awkward position, it was as if he was leaning to avoid a very unpleasant poke then dodging a bullet to the head. Andrea gestured at the ground, "Have a seat, I think we'll be here a while."

He looked behind him and sat on the stump that had probably been some huge evergreen. Andrea sat on a stump opposite to his and laid the gun on her dark slacks, she placed a hand over the gun, it seemed relaxed enought but he knew she could snatch it up within seconds and shoot him. The silence dragged on for minutes, both staring at each others eyes. Grissom didn't know what Andrea was looking for in his eyes. He himself was looking for a shred of humanity left in those once beautiful eyes full of fun and friendship, now they were steely and emotionless, Grissom could recognize nothing of the woman he once knew to be a laughing, bubbly lab tech. They both started as a small bird chirped out its morning song, "You didn't answer my question, Andrea." Grissom said quietly.

She leaned back her sharp eyes never taking them off of his, she crossed her shapely legs and tucked the gun by her side. "Why should I explain myself to you?"

Grissom knew he was playing a dangerous game, but nontheless he plowed on, "You didn't drag me all the way up here just to kill me."

"You think I'm the one to gloat?" she asked raising a skeptical eyebrow.

He shrugged, "If not that then why haven't you killed me yet?"

Within a tenth of a second, Andrea had grabbed the gun and pointed it at Grissom's head, she clicked the safety lock back. "Silence," she hissed.

Grissom kept his mouth closed dispite the fact that Ryan was probably bleeding to death. The gun lowered, "You're right." she said blowing out a steam of air, "This is a revenge-"

"Revenge?"

Andrea scowled, "Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

"What's the point? You are going to shoot me anyways. I'll be the last to hear your fascinating history, a few minutes won't hurt."

She sighed, "I guess you're right. Stupid really, me cold hearted murderer craves the attention of a listening buddy."

"Not really." Grissom said, "Killers want their story to be remembered, either by the dead or the living."

Andrea nodded, it made sense, "So," she said once again tucking away the gun, "How's Greg? Is he still alive?"

"Yes, Greg is doing just fine."

"Figures." a smile danced on her lips, "If that guy can survive an explosion and a fire within his time of lab rat to CSI he can probably survive a little allergic reaction."

"That reminds me." Grissom said, "How did you know he would be allergic to that certain drug?"

"Ah, the wonders of hacking into someone's medical files is no mystery." she said sneering, then, "Do you care about Ryan?"

The abrupt question had Grissom's train of thought colliding with another, he recovered very nicely, "I guess you could say I do. I care about all my co-workers."

Andrea pursed her lips, "But not murdering co-workers."

Grissom shook his head, "I can get you help-"

"I'm not seeing a damn shrink. They don't fucking know anything." instantly Andrea's little tirade disappeared, "Do you know why I do these things?"

"No, do you?"

"See that's the funny thing." she sighed and hugged one knee while the other leg dangled off of the tree stump, "I don't know why I do it. Those reasons I gave Greg, those were more like...excuses."

"Many people don't know why they do what they do." Grissom tried to be soothing.

Andrea sighed, "I know, but it's just not good enough. I mean I'm taking lives here, sending them off to their own personal hell before their time is up. I don't think it's right that I don't have an explanation."

"Some people never do find the answers to their questions before they die, supposedly everything is answered up there." Grissom raised his eyes skyward, "We can still help you, just tell me where Ryan is."

"He'll come to you in time." she said detached, "And...that's bullshit. No one can help me at all, I will never be locked up in one of those padded room, ever." her laugh was hysterical as she raised the gun.

"Andrea, calm down. Give me the gun."

"No, this little outcome of our conversation doesn't depend on who has the gun." she said, "Do you ever wonder about how it's gonna end?"

Andrea stepped forward, pressing the cold muzzle to his chest. Grissom swallowed, his mouth was suddenly too dry. He couldn't help but think about the freezing little circle pressed against his heart. His fate was in the hands of a mad woman who's finger was now tightening over the trigger. Grissom tried not to flinch, flinch and he could die, flinch and other people could die. That one little sentence gave Grissom the strength he needed.

"No." it came out soft.

"Really? Not even one quick glimpse into the future?" Andrea said cocking her head sideways, while reinforcing her grip on the gun by adding her left hand.

"Never. When it's time, it's time."

"Pity, cause I know how it'll go down. Who dies, who lives in their own private hell for the rest of their mortal lives, and sometimes very rarely an innocent who did nothing will die." she glanced sideways and smiled before turning back to stare Grissom right in the eyes, "Let me show you."

A gun shot echoed deafeningly through the quiet forest, startling birds into flight and small creatures back into their snug little homes.


	27. Triangle

Yeah, second last chapter. It's almost finished BWHAHAHAHAHAHA! Okay I'm done...I'm disappointed, no reviews...I'm sniffling...

Hope you like this one even though it's a little weird...REVIEW PEOPLE REVIEW!

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Secret Whispers: Chapter Twenty Seven Triangle

Grissom stood shocked for a few minutes the last few seconds replaying through his mind over and over like a carousel going around and around. _"Pity, cause I know how it'll go down. Who dies, who lives in their own private hell for the rest of their mortal lives, and sometimes very rarely an innocent who did nothing will die." she glanced sideways and smiled before turning back to stare Grissom right in the eyes, "Let me show you." _

_She smiled sickenly as her finger tightened on the trigger and she lifted the gun to the side of her head. As Andrea's head snapped back from the force of the bullet entering her skull and scrambling her brain, Grissom rushed forewards and caught her. He watched as her eyes turned dull and all life fled from her body, Grissom raised a shaky hand and closed her eyes. He gently put her down and stood up, Andrea's lifeblood dripping from his hands._

He couldn't believe what he had just saw, he couldn't believe that somebody close to him would willingly take her own life like that. He felt the startling sensation of a tear rolling down his cheeks, when was the last time he had cried? Gotten teary over a death of somebody he hardly knew outside of work, let alone a murderer? Grissom knew she had taken lives to sate her blood lust, but why? Why did he shed tears for her?

Grissom angrily brushed the tears aside, there was plenty of time to mourn, mope, and rethink what had happened. But right now he had to keep his goal clear, if it got muddled even a tiny bit, Ryan could die. He had read Andrea's message clear as day, he would live the rest of his life wondering if he did right, Andrea had died, and it was possible that Ryan might die too. Kneeling beside the body of Andrea, he searched her pockets and found his cell phone. He flipped it open, praying that he would get a signal. He silently cheered as he phoned up Yan, but as he waited for her to pick up his phone beeped, damn it he was low on battery. "Come on, come on." Grissom muttered, "Pick up, pick up."

Several agonizing rings later, Yan picked up, "Yan."

"Look it's me." Grissom said.

"Grissom? Where are you? We've been searching all over the place for you."

"Yeah, yeah. Listen I'm-" his phone died. "Damn!" he said and dashed his phone to the ground.

He couldn't risk the fact that maybe Yan was smart enough to trace his call and bring a search team. That could take hours especially if she wanted to get a hellicopter with all the heat seeking glory. That could take a couple of days considering East Hastings was far from civillization, maybe that was a bit too overexaggerated, but it could take a day to fully assemble the whole search crew and Grissom couldn't risk those 24 hours. He pushed his way out from the small clearing and followed the trail he stumbled on moments later, as he trodded up the trail which was gently sloping upwards he cried out Ryan's name over and over until he became hoarse. Even then he didn't stop, his breath was coming in short puffs and the cold was worming it's way into his shirt and piercing his skin. He stumbled over a rock and came to a halt, the grey sky beckoned towards him as he looked around him and called out Ryan's name for the last time.

Ryan had been perched on his rock for an hour after his sister had left before he had even contemplated moving, he got up mechanically and headed down the trail before something fluttering in the wind caught his eye. He slowly turned his eyes to the bright autumn coloured scarf that was caught in the tangle of branches, it was his sister's scarf. The one that the wind had ripped carelessly from her neck. Ryan approached with caution, you would've thought from the way he was walking he was the living dead, a zombie. Although Ryan had PTSD (post-traumatic stress disorder) he did remember one thing from his childhood.

_He was six and he had each arm linked with his older sister, Phy_licia, _who was fourteen years of age going on fifteen in just a couple of hours and his younger sister, Katrina, she was only five. They were laughing and dancing in the sunlight covered meadow full of fresh spring flowers, not a cloud could be seen in the blue, blue sky. It was perfect, the weather seemed to favour Phylicia and showed its fondness by making the sun shine on her birthday. Phylicia smiled and broke the link between their arms to dance in the slight breeze that had come her way. On her head sat a ring of fresh flowers, like a crown would've sat on a queen's head. Her long colourful skirt flew behind her as she laughed and did a cartwheel on the soft grasses. He and Katrina giggled and ran as fast as they could after her, their hands never letting go of each others._

_Suddenly a particular strong gust of wind, whipped Andrea's scarf away and blew it right into a tree. It hung there, twirling around and around taunting them. Phylicia let out a gasp of disbelief as she jumped at the dangling cloth, her fingers brushed it but she couldn't get it down. In the end she sat down and cried, Zach and Katrina did not know what they could do, for they were not old enough to be practised in the art of comfort. _

_In the end Zachary did a foolish thing and climbed the gigantic tree all by himself, he straddled the rough bark and reached for the dangling scarf..._

Ryan reached out for it...suddenly he felt himself lose his footing and he felt himself falling. He grabbed a hold of the thick branch in which the scarf had been caught on previously, the soft cloth was wound around his hands and he tried desperately to get his footing back, but he was too far over the cliff face to get it back...

_Zach cried out as he fell, he caught the scarf and the branch with both hands. He tried to pull himself up, but his sweaty grip kept on slipping..._

If he had been in his right state of mind he would've thought up of some clever plan to get himself back on the cliff, but as it was he wasn't comprehending his situation fully. Memories and reality was twisting into one...

_Phylicia and Katrina both held up their arms urging him to jump, but he was too scared to. "Jump. It won't hurt a bit, we'll catch you."_

_Zach's eyes were stained with tears from fright..._

As was Ryan's...

_He let go and closed his eyes, he felt himself being engulfed by gentle arms. Soothing pats were repeatedly placed on his head and back as he cried his fear away, he still clutched the scarf in one hand and was holding on for dear life._

Ryan's eyes closed in the bliss of his memory and he let go slowly. The scarf fluttered free from his weak grip and twisted like a colourful snake in the air.

Grissom didn't know what posessed him, but he looked down and all his horrors were confirmed. Far below him he could see the outline of a body, spread eagled on the hard and vicious unforgiving ground. He hurried back down the trail to the bottom of the peak and just stared, he felt disconnected to the world as he saw Ryan spread out in front of him. He laid crumpled at Grissom's feet, his eyes closed and what seemed like a small smile graced his features. He looked so perfect lying there like one of the old paintings of one of those catholic angels, with their eyes closed. Later it would be confirmed that Ryan had died from a cracked ocipital bone, but at the moment Grissom didn't care about the cold hard scientific facts, but the fact that he had been too late.

Minutes later, the sound of barking dogs woke Grissom from his little reverie. He stood up, brushing most of the mud off of his pants and waited. All too soon the dogs were sniffing at him and licking their chops, minutes later the motley crew of police, concerned citizens, and the governmental people arrived. Catherine looked bewildered and wind blown before she laid her eyes on the body, instantly her hand flew to her mouth and Grissom could read on her lips, "Oh, god."

Yan looked down at Ryan's face and instantly her eyes widened, she bent down, "Oh Zachary, what have you gotten yourself into."

Grissom frowned before remembering, Drew Reynold's children; Phylicia, Zachary, and Katrina. Which suddenly reminded him, what had happend to the dog? His questions was answered as a mournful howl was heard as Trina snuggled up to the body and licked Ryan's cold face, as if that could bring the dead back. Grissom couldn't stand to look anymore, he turned to the closest person, who happened to be O'Brian, "You're murderer is in a clearing not far from here." his voice was hoarse and whispery.

Even the seemingly impeccably cold O'Brian was stunned by this scene, he chewed his lip and nodded, "Yeah, okay."

It took some minutes to round up the dogs and the crew, some people stayed to wait for the coroner who was more the funeral home director. The others moved steadily upwards as Grissom took the leads. He found himself staring at ruin of Andrea for the second time in an hour and that image would be burned in his mind forever. The blood pool had grown bigger, soaking through the dead leaves and pine needles. Grissom looked down at the ground and found a piece of paper peeking shyly at him from one of the many pockets of Andrea's overcoat. He plucked it up and unfolded it:

_The triangle is now no more. For without even one of its points, it's a triangle no more._


	28. Epilogue: The Funeral

And thus this story comes to an end. I like to thank you all for sticking it out with me through all these months of crappy writting and my words of wisdom in this story is actually words of stupidity, I have no idea what I'm talking about... Alas this story was written as a fanfic from the hit TV show CSI, I do not own a thing except originality of the plot and the OC's. If I claimed ownership of anything else I would be charged for purgery and sued for millions of dollars which I don't have. If you do sue me, remember this I'm just a book junkie nothing more and nothing less. Which means I don't have all that much money.

**karmine:** I'm updating for the last time on this story, hope you like it. (Writer dramatically sniffs and faints.)

Review if you want to or not at all, your choice but I'd like some feedback as to what I should do to my next fic to make it even better and no sadly it's not a CSI fic. Oh for all of you readers curious about Ryan's and Andrea's past I might write a story on it, but it would be a while yet. Don't worry, it'll come sooner or later.

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Secret Whispers: Epilogue The Funeral

The sky was a dark iron grey, it looked ready to open up its bowels and dump the snow it was holding back on top of their heads. However the weather would hold until tomorrow, that much the weather could give them on this mournful day. Greg hunched his aching shoulders against the cold wind, he had actually found a dark suit that fitted him instead of hanging off his person like excess skin. After weeks of staying in bed he had finally found the strength to stand and walk, just in time for the funeral too. He glanced up and closed his eyes in pain as one of his healing burns stretched, he had been trying to move very little but sometimes a movement would cause one of the scars to crack and send waves of pain coursing through his body. Greg hadn't taken any painkillers out of pride, but he was starting to regret that bold decision now. It would be a while yet before he could return to work without being in constant pain, but he was determined not to let his pain show through so he could actually get back into the lab where all his buddies were. He missed them all very dearly and couldn't wait to see all their faces again, but there would be a couple of faces he would never see again outside a picture. Andrea and Ryan, he still couldn't believe what had happened over the last few months and probably would never fully understand the truth for as long as he lived.

The funeral was being held in the small cemetery of East Hastings, it seemed the whole of the crime lab and Ryan's university classes had been invited or had come just to pay their respects. They all milled in a loose oval around the two shiny oak coffins, wreaths of flowers and crosses adorned them making them look like a garden bed instead of what they truly were; boxes that held two dead bodies. The coffins were laid side by side, they would be buried the very next day next to their sister who's life had ended too soon. All Greg could hear was silence, not even the winter birds sang.

He glanced off to one side and saw Warrick and Catherine standing close together, Warrick had one arm slung around her waist and he was looking forlornly about. Tina's funeral had been a couple of days ago and he was still suffering the after effects of it. Warrick had seemed to find some comfort in Catherine and Greg hoped that their relationship would take to new heights instead of it being a rebound from this whole mess. It would make Warrick and Catherine more happier to spend time together and perhaps with time Catherine could find some way to salve Warrick's hurts.

A couple walked up to Greg and he recognized them instantly, the judges son Joe Warner and the russian babe Lilly Vermount. In his arms, Joe carried Trina who had her nose pointed to the coffins and was straining to get out of Joe's arms. However he just held on tighter, Greg winced and hoped that Trina's ribs were stronger then they looked. Greg nodded to them and leaned heavily against the tree he was standing near by, he was getting tired from standing already. Surprisingly they weren't walking past him but towards him, Greg glanced behind him, okay that was a stupid thought. There was nothing behind him but forest, forest, and more forest. They stopped in front of him, their eyes downcast and forlorn, no late night parties for these two, Greg thought wryly. Lilly looked at Greg and he spotted a slight glimmering in her eyes, "Was... Did he die painfully?" she asked in a shuddering breath.

Greg didn't really know that answer and didn't want to really know it but he shook his head, "Probably not."

Lilly burst out weeping and clutched onto Joseph's suit, getting it wet and wrinkling the perfect jacket. He let go of Trina who leaped off in the direction of the caskets to stand guard over them and he hugged Lilly tightly and buried his face in her perfectly curled gold locks. Greg looked away at this raw display of emotion, he felt embarassed by it. He didn't know how to handle these situations very well, that's why he was usually partnered up with people who did. Greg was suddenly struck with a sudden memory and a curiosity to know something from Joe, "You never told me..." Greg trailed off for a second, "Why you were so mad at Ryan that day we pulled you in for a interview with your boat load of attorneys."

Joe looked somewhat guilty, "It was...nothing."

"You mean it was stupid." Lilly said sniffing into his collar, "Tell him why you called him such horrible names."

"He...um...stole my dog." he looked away going red.

"Your dog? You mean Trina?" Greg asked somewhat surprised.

"Yeah, told me this mumble jumble magic voodoo stuff about her being some reincarnate of her sister. At first I got angry, which was about the time when you pulled me into interview, then I got over it thinking he needed some serious help. I offered, through Lil here, to pay for a shrink but he wouldn't have it. Got this scared look in his eyes and slammed the door shut right in front her face." Joe shook his head, "I know shrinks are not that well loved in this day and age but they arn't that bad."

"Some people I know will seriously disagree with you." Greg said.

"Some." Joe looked away, "If you'll excuse us?"

"Yeah, go ahead." Greg said.

Minutes later the priest arrived, Lilly's parents that had paid for the whole affair, had had the priest come from one of Las Vegas's churches. According to the bible, the two siblings really shouldn't be having a catholic funeral. Andrea had taken lives and Ryan's death would be considered a suicide by the many who gathered here, but they had bribed this one priest to do their last rights for them. "We are gathered here today, in memory of Phylicia and Zachary Reynolds. Also known to their loved ones as Andrea Chase and Ryan Anderson." the priest intoned in a deep voice, effectively squashing any attempts of anybody making small talk. It seemed most priests had that much power at least, however most people start to zone out as soon as he started reading the catholic funeral rites.

Greg was one of the many that did, he limped slowly to join the small circle around the coffins and bowed his head in rememberance. He felt a hand on his shoulder and found himself looking at the grim smiling faces of Sara and Nick, they were properly attired as well. Greg gave a nod but didn't speak, it would not be befitting. Greg looked around discretely and wondered where Grissom was. He then spotted him with his head bowed talking softly to Lilly who's mascara was well beyond ruined by now, she nodded once, twice then ceased crying, but her lips still trembled as the rites were presented slowly and sturdily by the priest. Words of comfort, given by Grissom. What a surprise.

Greg remembered a saying from long ago, "Funerals are for the living not the dead." he couldn't agree more. A funeral was a place where the decease's family, loved ones, and friends get sympathy and condolensces for the terrible tragedy that had happened. It wasn't as if the dead would care how much money their friends would pour into this funeral so they could have a fancy burial, if you asked Greg he thought all the dead wanted was a some peace and quiet not some old bald guy muttering words over their dead bodies. Greg bit his lip, he wondered what it was like being dead, were you watching what people did? Were you watching from heaven or hell? Is your soul going in hibernation to relive all your past lives and to be reborn when you were ready? Or were you just dead? Gone, the life snuffed out of you? So many questions and only meeting death would answer them.

He tilted his head upwards to the gently slopping hillside on the other side of the cemetary, he blinked in surprise. Trina was looking down boldly from the hillside and nodding sagely as each word was spoken by the priest, two people were crowded around her. One of them looked up, as the sleek black hair fell back Greg gave a start. It...it couldn't be. He found himself staring at the twin sapphire blue eyes of Ryan. He could see slightly through him and he seemed to ripple with the breeze, the other figure was Andrea, she too found his eyes with her own. They both stood slowly, they were in their usual attire and suddenly another figure emerged. It was just a little girl of about 14, but Greg knew she was family for she had much of the same features as Andrea and Ryan did. They hugged each other, the little girl's long wavy looks blew gently and her small mouth smiled as did they all. Ryan looked at him, his eyes sparkling with a happiness that had been missing when Greg first met him. His shy smile widened and he mouthed something to him, it seemed very much like, "Thank you."

Then they were gone like mist, just faded away in the sunlight that was struggling to get through the strong willed clouds. Greg blinked once, twice but still couldn't believe what he saw. Was it just his imagination? Or was this their way of saying goodbye? He felt a hand on his shoulder, he looked up and found himself staring at Grissom's blue eyes so like and yet so different from those of his dead friend. Grissom nodded his head in the direction of the car, "Let's go."

Greg blinked, the funeral was over and done with. He followed Grissom, he looked back and saw nothing. As they neared the parking lot, Greg took one last look at the scene behind him, again he saw nothing. As he turned back, he saw something in the corner of his eye. A brightly coloured scarf danced its way through the air, brushing lightly on the floral arrangements hanging off of the coffins. He watched it go by and sighed.

Life is lost every second on this earth, whether it be human or animal. But it causes only a little ripple in this big bustling river, forever flowing freely. Death doesn't influence the world greatly, if you threw a pebble in one part of the river it affects that part strongly, it sends out ripples that get weaker and weaker. Sections of the river barely notice the ripple, but the sections nearest to the rock impact are affected the most. Thus is called the circle of life.


End file.
